Prison Viverly
by Tricia Estrada
Summary: Michonne Bainbridge, occupying the B-block in Prison Viverly, never knew that the world could be so brutal and she believed that she'd be alone throughout her life in the apocalypse, but it turns out a certain man named Rick Grimes had different plans for her.
1. Issue 1, The Parting Glass

**Issue #1, "The Parting Glass"**

We won't survive out here. It's not safe. Might as well off ourselves here and now because there's no point in trying to make it in a world that no longer wants you alive anymore.

That's what Mike said to Michonne before she lost him.

And she had to admit that maybe, just maybe, for a second she believed him. Michonne was ready to give up. After the whole Andre situation she just felt dead, like she was invisible, like one of those roamers with no more life force left inside of her.

Scooping up the last of the fruit in her plate, she savored the taste of sweet warmness before setting the spoon down.

"Penny for your thoughts, Michonne?"

She took in the appearance of Estelle, who looked rather less tattered than she had yesterday. Of course that had been before the group discovered the cleanest wardrobe they had seen in weeks.

"I wasn't really thinking of anything," Michonne spoke in a subdued voice after regretfully swallowing the last fruit in Viverly. "Even if I was, I wouldn't tell you. There's enough sadness going around."

Estelle sat on bench and scooted closer. "You talking about Sonya?"

"Yeah. She was up all last night crying in her cell. I didn't get much sleep because of it, but I don't think she needs to know that." Michonne stood from the table and rubbed her hands together, she could feel the dust falling away.

"Should we assemble a cleaning service?" Joked Estelle as she watched Michonne, getting to her feet and grinning a grin that looked just like her father. "But seriously though, there's a lot more work to be done here. This isn't paradise."

"Of course it isn't, it's a prison." Michonne felt cold sweat spill down her chest and moaned of exhaustion. "Are there any more clothes left or am I going to have to wear one of those ugly prison jumpsuits?"

"The latter, _sis_." Estelle playfully tapped Michonne's arm just as soon as her face darkened with disappointment. Michonne's sister knew she _hated_ those uniforms. Who knew what the inmates could have been doing in them?

"Michonne!"

The two of them whirled at the yelping sound of Michonne's name for their eyes to land on Wolfram, he was carrying a pink rag, his clothes and skin stained in grease. "You've got to see this. Come on."

They rushed after him.

 ** _X_**

"Dad, can we stop, please?" Judith crinkled her nose as she tried to wipe away grimy dirt off her arms, earning a grin from her brother Carl. "I've already been bitten by two mosquitoes already, I can't take it anymore."

Rick stepped over a large slab of rock that was stained with blood and another thick substance and looked back to make sure his children were caught up.

"How is stopping going to keep mosquitoes away from you, Judith? It doesn't make any sense." Carl said, rolling his eyes and picking up a nearby stick since he'd lost his a while back.

"It makes perfect sense," said Judith. "We set up our tent, zip the thing up and they won't be able to chew me out before sundown."

She quickly shoved Carl with her open hands and he fell on his stomach with an _oof_ sound. "Hey!" He yelped.

"Judith, _quit it_." Rick hissed angrily. He stepped down a lump in the forest ground and helped Carl to his feet.

A guilty expression washed over Judith's face when she saw blood slowly dripping from a gash in his cheek. Carl glared at his sister with hooded eyes and shook his head before they continued on their way.

 ** _X_**

Michonne had been sure to snag her long and deadly sword that she had hung in her cell before heading outside of the prison. She slowed her run when she realized that there were a few cars parked outside the fences of Viverly.

Some of the vehicles were painted white with pink rainbows on the sides, and other things doodled that were in another language.

 _The Sisterhood_ , thought Michonne, _they've come to collect_.

Michonne looked up at Sid, he was standing in one of the towers with his sniper ready and aimed, across from him in the other tower was his brother Terrance doing the same thing.

"Estelle, open the gates." Ordered Michonne.

Estelle rushed forward, her sword clanking from her sheath that was strapped to her pocket, and approached the fences. She unhooked the chains until they slipped freely of the gate and fell heavily at her feet. Estelle looked back at Michonne for approval and got a leaderful nod.

Estelle nodded back before yanking the gates open. She hurriedly stepped out of the way for the cars had already began moving into the prison park yard.

The three cars entered and Estelle shut the gate again, not bothering the chain it up.

The first car's door opened and Maxine stepped out, she was wearing filthy boots and her hair up in a messy ponytail. The dirt beneath her boot clouded the air around her as she slowly approached Michonne and Wolfram.

Maxine's eyes ran over sweaty Wolfram with a venomous gaze, she stopped a few feet away and tucked her hands into the brown leather pants she wore. "So? Do you have our cans ready? The fruit, the beans, the tuna?"

Michonne squinted in confusion. "Fruit? There is no fruit." She thought back to eating the last fruit cocktail can and instantly regretted it, this could mean trouble—more so than before.

"What do you mean, 'there's no fruit'?" Maxine was very intimidating, she was gorgeous, sure. But when she spoke, her lips were the only thing that moved and it made the scene even more menacing.

Michonne looked over to Estelle, the sisters shared a look. "I mean, we enjoyed the last of it earlier. Maxine, we can provide you with the beans and tuna as long as you hold up your end of the deal."

Michonne tried her best to keep her expression confident, she couldn't let Maxine know she was nearly shaking in her shoes.

All Michonne was thinking was, _at least I have my sword on my back, that way if she made a single move on the Viverly gang her head would be hitting the floor before her body could react_.

Maxine quirked one of her eyebrows, a smirk playing on her lips like the crook of a spoon. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Michonne looked at her sister again. "In fact, we have it all crated and packed ready to go. Don't we, Wolfram?"

Wolfram nodded. "I can get it right now—"

"Fucking don't." Maxine held her arm out, it was smeared with dry blood. "I don't want no man's hands on our shit. Estelle, why don't you go collect those crates, honey?"

Estelle ran back inside the prison, and Michonne looked down at her booted feet before back up into Maxine's face. "Do you have what we asked for?"

Maxine grinned even wider. "Of course we do. Matches, gasoline, even the guns. Tracy!" She called out, back to the cars.

There was a bigger car, a black jeep, its door opened and out stepped another girl. She was dark-skinned with long stringy blonde hair. She headed to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

Michonne watched from her distance as Tracy pulled out a black case. It was heavy-looking and wide. Tracy grabbed it by the handle and struggled to drag it over to the Viverly gang.

She let it go near Wolfram, and up close Michonne saw the piercings in her nose, lip and eyebrows. Tracy walked over to Maxine, standing by her side.

The prison side door shutting made everyone look toward the sound, and it had been Estelle, carrying two crates stacked on top of each other. Michonne nearly smiled at how muscular her sister's arms had gotten since the apocalypse began.

Estelle sat it in front of the girls and took her place beside Wolfram and Michonne. "That all? Can you go now?" Said Estelle, smartly.

Michonne knew Maxine didn't appreciate the way Estelle spoke to her, but did a pretty damn good job of hiding it. "Next time I come up in here and I ask for something? That shit better be here."

With that, she and Tracy carried the crates back to their cars and got inside of their vehicles. With a wink, Maxine waited until Estelle opened the gates back up to pull out of the prison.

Once they were out of sight, Michonne released a breath and got into a squatting position. "Those girls scare the living crap out of me."

Estelle put a hand to her sister's shoulder. "I agree, sis."

 ** _X_**

"Hey—you're eating it all up!" Judith made a reach for the bag of gummy worms that Carl was carrying but he quickly moved it away in the swift motion of his hand. "Dad!"

Rick didn't respond to her, he was too focused on the darkness of the woods, there was something about them that didn't sit right with him.

The candy had melted out of the shape of worms but they were good enough. "As soon as I get handy with a weapon you're never going to bother me again." Said Carl, stuffing the packet into his backpack.

He then pointed to the cut in his cheek that was dry now. "See? That's what you did to me. Stop bothering me."

Judith rolled her eyes and continued on their way. "When the hell are we going to get out of these—Dad!?"

The children froze in place as a dark shadow protruded from a big bush and their father was tweaked roughly into it by a muscular arm.

"Well, why are you just standing there? Get a move on, asshat!" Judith pushed her brother's shoulders but he didn't move. She moaned angrily before heading over to the spot Rick had vanished from.

"Dad! Dad!" She screamed in a loud girly voice, something she always said she'd never do if a horror movie came to life. "Where are you?"

She looked back at Carl, a clear shock on his face. "Carl! Get with reality, you dumb baby!" She headed over to him and slapped him against the face—she did it so hard it hurt her own hand and even got Carl to blink.

"Someone took him? Someone took Dad?" Carl stepped forward and squinted into the bush. "Dad?"

Before he could tell Judith no one was there, he heard a whispery wheeze and it was followed by a walker, it fell on him, knocking him against sharp rocks, Carl could not feel pain but he felt wet liquid soaking his socks.

"CARL!" Judith rushed over and kicked the walker in the face, a flap of skin coming off on her shoe. "Ugh." She said in a disgusted voice as the thing fell over. She walked over and continued to beat it in the face with her foot until it no longer attempted to chew into her brother.

Her brother who she realized wasn't moving. Judith fell to her knees at Carl's side and shook his shoulders angrily. "Wake up, snot boy! Wake your butt up, wimpy wussy!" Her hand cracked across his cheek but his eyes did not open and his body did not respond to her.

A long, wet tear slipped from her right eye. "Carl?"


	2. Issue 2, The Greatest Discovery

**Issue #2, "The Greatest Discovery"**

With her knees pulled up under her chin and her head down onto her folded arms, a long hiccupped sob exploded from Judith's mouth. She sat right next to her brother's body; his skin was overwhelmingly white and coated with cold sweat and his lips were stained a bluish purple from all the candy he'd eaten.

The sound of a twig snapping was enough to get her eyes open and herself off the ground. Judith looked around, feeling like a bloated mess what with the snot running down her nose and dried tears on her face.

"Who's there?" She called out.

A metallic zing made herself whirl only to see a lengthy sword drawn-out toward her, the pointed tip barely poking her nose. Her eyes rose to see the possessor. It had been a tall black woman who had a thick mane of brown coils that hung loosely around her head and ears.

"You alone?" Hearing the woman's voice was like cold water washing over her, it was such a relief to hear someone else's voice other than her own wails after being alone for two whole days. "Little girl, I asked if you were—"

"I didn't see them, it was too dark." Whispered Judith.

The sword dropped from her face and the lady stepped forward, putting her hand on Judith's shoulder. "Who?"

"The men, the ones who took my father." She looked up at the woman.

The lady wore a white knitted sweater with a beaten brown leather vest, she had on knee-high biker boots that was only halfway concealed by her purple skirt which was tight at the waist and wider along her knees.

When her eyes slid behind Judith, where Carl laid, the woman slid her sword into its sheath. "That your brother? What happened to him?" The woman rushed over to him and dropped on her knees.

She put her head to his chest, and listened for breathing through his mouth. "How long has he been out here?"

"He's dead. I think he busted his head. Cracked his skull or something." Said Judith.

The woman shook her head, a smirk playing at her ample, makeup-less lips. "This boy's not dead, little girl. He's just unconscious. Help me get him up." The woman reached for Carl's arms until she realized that Judith hadn't moved yet.

The lady roughly put her hands on Judith's face and forced her to look at her. "This ain't no time to be scared, little girl. You ain't no baby no more. Now _help_ me get him up." She demanded, her voice thicker than blood.

Judith, shaken, reached for his legs.

 ** _X_**

The fire was a large wild thing that stank of burning flesh, it was right outside the prison's gates. Sid coughed, looking to his brother Terrance who was lighting a smoke.

"Ay, you seen Sonya?" He called.

Terrance lifted the smoke from his mouth. "Nah, think she been sleeping all day. Don't try nothing, Sid, she just became a widow—no way she giving anything to you."

Sid chuckled, watching the roamers bodies emit in flames.

 ** _X_**

"What's your name, Mister?"

Rick blinked just as a dingy bag was being pulled from his head. He just felt numb, his lip was split from a beating he was sure he had taken the second he was dragged away from his children.

He was on his knees, his arms chained to a metal pipe that ran up the wall. When his eyes opened, he was surprised to learn that the voice had belonged to a woman—a very muscular woman with a sleeve tattoo of a dragon spitting fire.

"That was you?" Rick spit a thick bunch of blood from his mouth onto the wooden floorboards. "Taking me away from my kids?"

The lady took a swig of the drink she had been chugging probably the whole time he was with her. She had her messy, greasy hair bound with a rubber band at the top of her head. "Yep—who did you expect me to be? A nasty man?"

"Sort of," said Rick, feeling dizzy all over again. He looked around, seeing that he was in the untidy kitchen of some trailer. It was a tight, confined space that was littered with tuna and bean cans. "Why did you take me away from my kids?"

" _Kid_." The woman corrected, sitting her drink down at the table, she was seated on the chair already. "Your boy was dead when I went back for him."

"Carl?" Rick looked up at the girl, there was no sign of dishonesty in her eyes and he looked down, not wanting to show her his weakness. "That can't be right."

"Must've gotten bit, left your lil girl out there sobbing her pretty blue eyes out—would've taken her but…I figure she's safer out there without no _man_ bossing her around," the woman wore a tight tee shirt that rose high above her belly button with the words XX over her breasts.

"Listen, lady—" Rick began, ready to yell at her.

"It's Maxine," she said, setting a booted foot on the ground. "And I don't think I like your tone, _minger_."

Maxine was very attractive to be covered in sweat and grease and she looked around 18—20.

"Maxine," he said in a much nicer tone. "She's my daughter, and I'm not _bossing_ her around, I—I'm trying to keep her safe, after they— _she_ lost her mother things have been hard. It's only fair that you let me go so I can be with her."

"Don't talk to me about what's fair, numpty." Maxine got to her feet, nearly tall enough to have her head hitting the roof. "Now, I only brought you in to teach the Sisterhood a lesson."

"Sisterhood?"

"You'll see. Now get your ass on your feet so I can unchain you." Maxine grabbed his arm.


	3. Issue 3, The Misandrist Party

**Issue #3, "The Misandrist Party"**

Somewhere on the way to the woman's camp, the woman had begun carrying Carl by herself. She didn't seem to actually get tired, she never complained, never sighed outright, just went on her way.

Carl—on the other hand—hadn't so much as opened his eyes. He still hadn't moved either. His skin hadn't warmed and his legs just swung lifelessly in her muscular hold.

The woman didn't seem to talk much either, she just walked silently and determined. There was something about her that excited Judith in a weird way—she didn't know what it was but something told her not to leave this woman's side.

Watching Carl, Judith didn't have much hope that he'd make the trip, so she didn't find herself getting excited. But she had to get her mind off the agony of seeing his limp body. The woman ducked out from under a tall tree. "Come on." She helped Judith get out from behind her.

When Judith stepped onto the dirt road, she looked up and only a few yards away, saw a prison. It was wide, rusty and vacant. There were two towers and a lengthy field surrounded by fences. "Is this where you live?"

"Yep," said the woman. "Now walk faster, your brother probably doesn't have long." As the lady prepared to continue walking, Judith stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

"Wait—" Judith looked up to the woman innocently. "What's your name?"

The woman grinned widely. "Michonne. You?"

"Judith, but my Dad calls me Judy—at least when he's not mad at me."

Michonne continued down the pathway. "Tell me more."

"About what?" Said a confused Judith.

"Your Dad, tell me more about him."

 ** _X_**

Maxine propelled Rick out of the trailer, he stumbled down the small quartet of steps, his shoes dredging up dust. Rick regained his composure, straightening his body though Maxine still her a grip of steel on his neck.

Rick looked around and the world stretched out around him here. The scenery was splendid. The sky was like an oil painting that captured the dusks and colors. Below, there were big green tents set up side by side, probably six of them and a tall house in between each three.

"Looks like you have big company." Rick said.

"Sure do." Maxine surprisingly didn't seem at all angry by his statement.

She put her hand on Rick's shoulder and proceeded to push him toward the big house he had been gazing at.

 ** _X_**

"He has severe head injuries and he'll need stitches for the lacerations in his arms and legs. Other than that, Carl's going to be fine, Judith." Doctor Karson smiled kindly at Judith and tapped her shoulder before leaving the room.

The infirmary was a wide-set room with a minimum of 10 beds, Judith was sitting at the edge of one of those beds and Michonne was sitting on a chair in front of the bed.

Michonne let out a breath of relief and got to her feet. Judith realized she was wearing a striped blue and white prison jumpsuit and a quick smirk left her lips.

"What? What are you laughing at?" Michonne demanded, a serious expression on her face until she realized that Judith had been staring at her choice of attire. "Oh, I understand. I look ridiculous."

After a while, Judith let out a breath of air too. "You wanted to know more about my Dad, Michonne?"

Michonne pursed her lips. _Not really_. "Yeah, I guess." She sat back down in her chair.

Judith leaned back against the pillow and began talking. "His name's Rick, Rick Grimes. He's a sheriff's deputy. My Dad wasn't always there for Carl and I, but whenever he was, he made the most of it. When we lost Mom things—"

"Pre or post apocalypse?"

"Post. She got bit. Back then, we didn't think much about it until the fever burnt her out. Almost got Dad but he put her down." Judith sniffled, round tears sliding down her face. She looked over to Michonne, a glint in her eye. "You ever wonder, 'what's the point'?"

"All the time." Michonne sighed. "You should get some rest, I'll go check in on Carl." Michonne headed over to the bed and pecked her forehead.

 ** _X_**

"How's he?" Michonne leaned against the doorframe, the small figure of Carl lying in the bed gave her memories of her own son.

Karson, who had been lightly resting by his side, got up from her chair. "He'll be alright, give him time."

"Of course." Michonne sighed.

"Michonne."

She turned and saw Estelle, she was standing outside the door.

"What is it, Essie?"

"It's Maxine, she's late with the supplies. We might not be able to eat tonight." Estelle informed her, a regretful look on her face.

"No. We're eating tonight." Michonne stepped away from the door and shut it behind them. She and her sister began strolling down the corridor.

"What do you mean? Do you have some kind of backup plan, or…?" Estelle trailed.

"Of course. We're going up there."

"WHAT?" Estelle stopped dead in her tracks. "Are you joking? Weren't you the one who said they scare the living crap out of you?"

"Yeah, but when we ask for something, our shit better be here." Estelle sort of grinned at Michonne quoting Maxine. "I'm not backing down because a couple of misandrists don't know how to do their jobs."

"So, there's no changing your mind? No guilt card I can play?" Estelle looked desperate.

"Nope." Michonne pushed a dreadlock from her big eyes. "We're going to go pay Maxine a visit."


	4. Issue 4, The Low Cut

**Issue #4, "The Low Cut"**

When Maxine's hand closed on the knob, Rick half expected to see an empty house, but the second it opened, he was surprised to know that it was packed with over 30 women inside.

He made a sound of surprise and Maxine grinned widely. The women were seated in the long rows of chairs that were assembled in the middle of the room. They were applauding Maxine, the room exploding with sounds, chatter and clapping.

"What are you, some sort of celebrity or something? Were you before all of this?" Rick asked, and instantly wondered if Maxine had heard since the room was so loud.

Maxine continue shoving him until they reached the platform stage that was built by tree branches and flat boards of wood. He stepped up onto it, suddenly fearing the whole event around him.

"It's none of your business, _Rick_." She said his name sharply, but it left him wondering one thing.

He squinted down at her. "How did you know my name?"

Maxine grinned widely, sending waves of energy through the crowds. "You still had your wallet on you."

"But—you asked me for my name. If you knew already then why ask?"

Rick gazed at her with expecting eyes just as she answered. "Just wanted to see if you would lie to me."

"But I didn't even answer you, though."

"That was even _better_."

 ** _X_**

"You have to be kidding me, Michonne." The two women flew into the prison control room. There was a desk packed with computers and a singular spinning chair set behind it. Michonne dropped the bag onto that desk and pulled the cart of weapons closer.

"Actually, I'm not." Michonne was back in her comfortable skirt, sweater and vest. She rolled her eyes as Sonya rushed at her as angry as a rampaging bull. "This is something we need to do."

She grabbed Michonne's wrist, Michonne, who had been stuffing a duffel bag full of the only guns and ammo they had.

There was a moment where Michonne would have peacefully asked Sonya to let go because of how she had lost her boyfriend Monty, but she couldn't find it in herself. Michonne yanked her hand away.

"I'm sure they ran into a couple roamers. We can survive without food for another day, Michonne." Sonya protested, her fuzzy blonde ponytail swinging with every effortful motion she made.

"I know Maxine," said Michonne, grabbing a pistol. "She's either lazing it up, or just doing this on purpose. But in addition, that woman likes to boss us around, I'm sure she won't mind if we do the same. It's only fair, right?"

"But you're putting us all in danger!" Screamed Sonya. "What if something happens to you? Who will we look up to then?"

"Listen here, Blondie. I'm not your leader. Just because I invited you guys in, it doesn't mean I own the place." Michonne set the records straight for her and zipped up the duffel.

"But you tell us what to do, you give us the great ideas, you _protect_ us—we _need_ you!" When Michonne didn't answer, Sonya folded her arms and sighed. "At least let me go with you, if there's no changing your mind."

"No. Not happening. I'm not going to put you in harm's way."

"You can't stop me." Sonya said, scratching her brow with her index finger.

Michonne shrugged, suddenly feeling hot in her sweater. "Yeah, I can. Besides, Wolfram, Sid, Terrance and Estelle are already coming, so—"

"About that…"

Michonne looked up as Estelle entered the room, her dark fuzzy afro soaked with water and put down into a puffy ponytail. "What? What is it, Essie?"

"I don't think I'm going."

She walked forward, confusion in her features. "What does that mean? Why?"

"I just think I want to stay and watch after Carl and Judith." Estelle shrugged. "I'm sure you can handle yourselves without me."

"But isn't Karson already here for that?"

"Michonne, Karson needs her rest, she's a doctor. Plus, Sonya just offered. Let her go, Michonne."

Sighing, Michonne turned to Sonya. "Sure. Whatever. I don't care." She threw her hands up, grabbed the duffel and headed out of the room.

 **X**

"I've openly told you all that men are dangerous," said Maxine, who had pushed on Rick's head to get him on his knees beside her. "They are vile, disgusting creatures that have no place in this world."

Rick hadn't spoken a word, just stayed where he was, wondering what would happen if he made a run for it, until he saw the long rifles that were sitting in their places on the wall.

"Anyway, I was out hunting the dead things when I saw Lynette pushed against a tree, sucking face with one of them," Maxine looked directly at one of the girls who he guessed was Lynette—she was a young girl with pigtails and bruised skin.

The crowd of women made sounds of disapproval, giving the girl glares, one even spit in her hair.

"Now, he got away before I could snag him, but I managed to find one of my own before I went home unhappy," she looked down at Rick, a grin sporting her lips. "But if I ever catch any of you with one of them, well…you're about to learn."

Maxine took a breath before walking off the stage into the room beside this one, Rick felt his heart speed up, especially when she exited with a metal bat. His breathing hitched. "Watch, and learn."

She looked at Rick, almost an apologetic look it was before she took the most painful swing.

 ** _X_**

Michonne buckled her seatbelt, watching the car vibrate and maneuver down the road from the passenger seat, her sword in between her legs.

She glanced at Wolfram, who was driving and tapped his shoulder. "Just wanted to thank you for driving, I'd probably have fallen asleep on the wheel."

Wolfram shrugged, turning a sharp corner. "No big deal, hey, you're the leader."

Before she could protest to that, Sid and Terrance burst into laughs, they had been joking nearly the whole time they were on the road. And it didn't help Sonya who sat uncomfortably in between the two. She shook her head.

It was a dark night, almost silent. She hadn't heard the moans, they didn't even make a sound—that's why it sent electric fear sparks down her body when Wolfram turned the corner and they were faced with the biggest flock of roamers they'd ever seen since the apocalypse started.

 ** _X_**

The bat cracked across his right shoulder, and finally Rick fell from his knees and onto his left arm. Sure, his back hadn't been broken, but it sure fucking felt like it.

A low humming sound he made, after Maxine stopped hitting him and the room started to clear out.

"What are you humming?" She asked in the most possible softest voice he'd ever heard _her_ speak.

Rick didn't answer her, his cheek against the platform, he felt like he couldn't move.

"I asked a question, Rick."

He mentally sighed and stopped his humming. "I don't know the name, but my mother used to sing it to me whenever I was scared."

"So did mine," Maxine crawled into one of the audience chairs. "Are you scared, Rick?"

He blinked wondering why she ever let that question leave her lips. _Of fucking course_.

"Of _you_. You kind of just assaulted me with a bat, lady." He groaned, painfully. Rick winced when his arm started to fall asleep. "What the hell do you think?"

Maxine shrugged, she didn't look sympathetic at all. "I was teaching the Sisterhood a lesson."

"That men are vile and dangerous? How can you label someone _dangerous_ after what you just did?" Rick slowly sat up, he was in pain everywhere. "Who hurt you, woman?"

Maxine looked up at him, a surprised expression plain on her face. "Oh, you would love to know that, wouldn't you?" She sat up, stood and went for the door. "You rest in here, I'll figure out what to do with you later."

 **A/N**

 **I hope you're still reading and enjoying this story.**

 **You can leave your critics in the reviews, even they are appreciated.**

 **Please leave a comment telling me what you think and keep em' coming.**

 **Reviews are what run the story!**

 **I do not own The Walking Dead or its characters, only my own:**

 ** _Maxine, Lynette, Wolfram, Estelle, Sid, Terrance, Sonya and Karson._**


	5. Issue 5, The Ghastly Brutes

**Issue #5, "The Ghastly Brutes"**

"What the hell do we do?!" Shouted Wolfram in a panic.

Sid and Terrance had immediately shut down their jokes the second Wolfram had pulled the car to a jerking stop.

"We _fight_. What the _hell_ do you think we do?" Michonne grabbed the sword, preparing to open the door but Wolfram had grabbed her small hand into his heavy one, his grip was so hard it was almost painful.

"I'm not going to let you go out there." He said in his deep voice. "Why do you keep constantly putting yourself in danger?"

"I'm not going back to Viverly. Besides, we'd starve." Michonne quickly pulled her hand away, so he didn't have time to react. "Sid, you and Terrence take turns up on the sun roof with the rifles. Cover me. Sonya, stay here."

Michonne opened the door and jumped down. The door shut behind her and she was in her zone.

It was easy to say you hated the roamers. That the world was a big tub of shit and you just wanted to be safe. But that wasn't the case for Michonne. Whenever she whipped her sword around, took off a head, an arm or even a torso—she felt like she was cleansing the world.

It even felt good.

A deep scream escaped her as she withdrew her weapon, she flew forward and lashed down with her sword, the head coming clean off and she was onto the next one before it could even hit the ground.

Michonne drew back her long blade by its threaded hilt but it was nearly knocked out of her hand when a bullet ricocheted off of the blade with a dissonant metallic blaze.

She looked back at Sid, who was aiming from the sun roof of the car. "I had that one!" She shouted.

"Michonne!" Sid screamed, pointing behind her.

Michonne released her already drawn back sword and it swept through the roamers' cranium, severing the top half right off. She felt energy rush through her like a wave of bad intentions.

A few minutes in, and Michonne had already found herself jumping into the air, whipping her sword around, flipping it, and even dropping it.

Though her killing only halfway lessened the herd, it was enough to get them through it. Michonne switched her sword through the empty air and roamer brains splattered on the floor.

 _"_ That was _fun_." She muttered, walking back over to the car and jumping into the passenger's seat.

When she got in, Wolfram was staring at her with a grin.

"What?"

He put his fist out, the expression on his face proud, and she bumped him back. "Good work, Michonne. I shouldn't have doubted you."

"Yeah, well don't do it again. She said, enclosing her sword with the sheath and sighing. Michonne reached back and began putting on her seat belt. "And actually, I kind of thought I was _great_."

 ** _X_**

"It's almost like you said. Lonely and heartbreaking." Judith leaned her head against his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart. "I wish you'd just wake up. I need you to."

She was glad he was even alive, yes. But it just wasn't enough. She wanted to hear his voice, see him move.

Almost as soon as she had thought it, Carl's hand twitched.

Judith jumped up immediately. "Carl? DOCTOR KARSON!" She screamed.

Carl had begun moving and shaking immensely, but his eyes still hadn't opened. "Carl! Open your eyes!" Judith wailed.

"Judith?" Doctor Karson stumbled into the infirmary, looking half-awake and took in the scene. "You need to wait in the hall." She ran over to the bed, telling Judith.

But Judith just sat there, watching her brother.

"Judith, GO." She pointed to the door, and Judith got up from her seat by his bed and left.

 ** _X_**

It was sickening to hear the roamer's appendages fracturing beneath the car, and Michonne had to cover ears for a second. But the second she saw a tall tree, she recognized where they were.

"Pull up here." Michonne told Wolfram.

The car was pulled to a stop behind that tree and Michonne hadn't moved to open her door yet. Instead, she turned to the side in her seat so that everyone in the jeep could see her.

"Since you are all men, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here." Michonne admitted, wishing that didn't have to be the case. "Sonya, you're coming with me."

"Fine with me." Said Sonya, opening the door, leaving the car, and hopping out.

"Wha?—then why are we here?" Asked Sid, looking as confused as his brother.

Michonne unclipped her seatbelt. "I'm not asking you to wait for me. Terrance, I'm going to need you to get the M4A1." After seeing him nod, she continued to speak. "See something happen? Pick em' off, one by one."

"Will do." Terrance replied.

Michonne turned to Sid. "Sidney, you get the Remington. You do well with that one, don't you?"

"The 700 VLS? Sure yeah, I've never done horrible with it."

"Good. And you," Michonne settled in her seat as she faced Wolfram. "If you hear anything, see one of the Sisters? You drive out here so fast and you don't ever come back."

"But what about you?" Terrance asked. "We can't leave without you and Sonya."

Michonne shrugged. "You're going to have to. In this world, people are more dangerous than the things we kill every day. It's that simple." She sighed.

 ** _X_**

Cold sweat stuck her shirt to her skin, and all Judith wanted was for everything to be over. If Carl was gone then her entire life was gone too. She simply didn't believe she could possibly go on without her family.

"I know how it feels." A voice echoed through the halls outside the infirmary.

She looked up. The voice belonged to Estelle, Michonne's sister. They looked almost identical, like twins.

"Losing a brother?"

Estelle slid down on the wall and sat beside her. "When the world went to crap, I didn't know where Michonne was, didn't know if she was dead or bitten or…" Estelle sighed, the pain of that memory was clear on her face. "Let's just say it was a hard time for me."

"How did you find her?"

"Actually, she found me. One second I was being attacked and the next I was being saved by my sister."

Judith looked down. "Who's the oldest?"

"Michonne. But sometimes I like to pretend I was born first." Estelle grinned.


	6. Issue 6, The Stage Marionette

**Issue #6, "The Stage Marionette"**

"So, are we really just going to sit here while they go to visit a couple of psycho bitches?" Asked Sid, from the sun roof squinting through the aim of his rifle. He could see the figures of Michonne and Sonya heading through a bunch of bushes.

"Not just a couple of psycho bitches, Sid. There's like forty living over there." Replied Wolfram, settling back in his chair and lowering his chair back.

"Hmm," Sid watched Michonne closely, especially the way her skirt flanked her sinuous hips. "Terrance?"

"What, bro?" Terrance sounded bored as he focused through his sight on his weapon. He held the M4A1 through the window of the back door.

Sid clicked his tongued. "Why have I never hooked up Michonne?"

Terrance chuckled, shaking his head. "Probably cause she turned you down, like five times. Don't you remember what Ma taught us? No means _no_ , Sidney Binkley."

A loud, raspy laugh came from Wolfram as he looked over at Sid and Terrance. " _That's_ your last name?"

"Shut up, old man." Rolling his eyes, Sid blinked away his blurry vision.

 ** _X_**

The door to the house he was in made a squeaking sound as someone stepped in through the door. Rick shut his eyes as he expected for Maxine to make her entrance known.

"Tuna's all we got."

The voice wasn't as husky as Maxine's was, instead the voice sounded like it belonged to a girl his daughter's age. Rick opened his eyes just as the girl sat down a plastic plate of some tuna.

"Wait." He called because the girl was trying to hurry out.

The second she heard his voice, she froze, her hand on the knob. "What do you want?"

"What's your name?"

The girl walked over to the empty audience chairs and looked directly at him. "Skye."

"Skye, I know what Maxine has taught you, and I know you stand loyal to her but…I have one question," Rick sat up and scooted back to lean against the wall.

In the dimly lit room he saw the form of her natural texturized hair, it was a bushy, luxuriant cloud around her small head. "What question is that?" Her voice was small, even a bit frightened.

Rick picked up the plate, and sighed. "What happened to her? To Maxine?"

Skye looked nervous, as if wondering whether she should tell him. She began pulling at the seams in her sleeves. "Promise you'll never tell I told you?"

"I promise." Rick began eating the day's meal.

He watched Skye take a seat. "When the world changed Maxine was on her own with her sister Lynette. A couple of guys found them hiding out in the back room of a bar, and they took turns forcing themselves on them. No more than a few months later, all of her gear and food were stolen."

"Let me guess, by a man." Rick scoffed after he had spoken and dropped his empty plate on the stage.

"Exactly—except it had been my father," said Skye looking down at her hands.

Rick furrowed his brows. "What?"

"Maxine and Lynette had left their camp and my Dad thought that the gear just left there," the steady tone of Skye's had suddenly become shaky. "He was only trying to protect me and he was _killed_ for it."

"They still let you become part of the Sisterhood, after what your father did?"

Skye shrugged. "We're all sisters here. Maxine has never killed a female, it goes against her code."

"And do you believe in that code?" He asked carefully.

Skye looked like she was ready to answer but closed her mouth, stood and hurried to the door. "I have to get back for breakfast."

 ** _X_**

"This is it." Michonne informed Sonya at the moment they moved toward the wall. It was built with tree trunks. Michonne had to give it to the Sisterhood, the wall was genius, especially with a set of two doors.

Sonya sighed.

"Welcome to the _Grove_."

They both did a one-eighty in time to see the person they'd come to visit.

Maxine.

She was dressed in her usual ratty clothes and greasy hair. Maxine was perched on a branch protruding from a tall tree. She jumped down and landed without fail. "May I ask why you're here?" Her hand went to the gun sticking out of her pocket.

"I think you know why." Said Michonne, resting her hand on the haft of her sword.

Maxine brushed a tangled curl from her eyes and stepped closer toward. "You're right, I do." She put two of her fingers in her mouth and whistled.

Michonne watched as the log doors suddenly began opening outwards. Inside she saw something she hadn't in a while.

 _Life_.

There were laughing girls, a couple of young children playing a game to the side. Women telling jokes, everyone scattered across the yard.

"Well?" Maxine gave an insipid smile. "Come in."

 ** _X_**

"No one's out there." Sid pulled his gun from the open window and sighed. "No one is going to come. All we have to do is wait." He told Wolfram, who he realized was resting.

Terrance was doing the same thing, his rifle was stuck in the window, balancing itself.

"Ugh."

As he prepared to let his eyes rest he heard the familiar sound of a click.

"Step out of the car, and if you make any move to wake those two up, I'll _shoot_ you all."

He turned slowly, the tall figure of a white woman stood there holding a pistol to his head. This woman had amber waves of hair. That being the most colorful thing he'd seen in a long while.

"Who the _hell_ are you?" He asked, squinting at her.

The woman brought her other hand up to hold the gun. " _Angelica_ , and don't you try nothing because I'm the gunslinger around here."

 ** _X_**

"Why don't any of you live in here? It's _perfectly_ safe." A thick voice echoed through the room.

Rick shook awake the second he heard the door to the House unlocked and the figures of three women were apparent in the shadows.

An atrocious pain lanced through his body, resulting in him groaning out loud. One of the women looked to side, her eyes searching through the darkness as if she didn't know he had been in the room.

"It's the entertainment house," spoke the somber sound of Maxine's voice. "It's not for rest."

The first woman who had spoken took a seat in one of the chairs, and folding one of her legs over the other. He swore he saw the silhouette of a pole attached to her back. "You seem to have everything under control here."

Maxine was still pacing, while the other woman with the silky hair sat beside the first woman.

"That we do." Answered Maxine, she was very tall compared to the other women.

The first woman folded her arms in front of herself. "Except for our deal. We were supposed to trade supplies, but now we're all out at the prison. What were you planning on doing? Making us starve?"

Maxine walked over to the farther wall, took something from her pocket, a sharp sound was made and suddenly the room was warm with a small light.

A candle light.

Maxine carried a small round candle in her hand and it lit up the outlines of her face like a creepy Halloween costume. "I was busy, we didn't have time to drive all the way down to the prison."

"Busy doing what?" Asked the second woman.

Maxine shrugged as the candle fire continued shaking profusely. "We had a new guest."

"Look, that's not something we care about, okay?" The first woman took a deep breath. "Now we have children, and we're not going to leave until you keep up your end of the deal."

Maxine walked over to the women. "Fine, don't get your panties in a twist, I'll go bring some over."

She handed the candle to the first woman and prepared to walk away, but Rick released a thick cough.

"Shut up, _Rick_." Maxine muttered, and left.

When the door shut behind her, the room was silent for a small while until the first woman stood up, the candle burning in her hand. He watched her as she treaded closely.

She unhurriedly mounted the small set of stairs and was suddenly on the stage with him. The only thing he could see was her brown skin being lit by the fire below her chin.

Rick felt his heart clench in his chest. _What was she going to do?_

The woman stopped in front of him for a dreadful moment before she squatted and shoved the candle in his face.

The pole on her back, he realized now, had simply been a sword.

"Rick?" She called out, wrinkling her thick eyebrows. "As in, _Rick Grimes?"_


	7. Issue 7, The Grove's Amputee

**Issue #7, "The Grove's Amputee"**

"It's just a bunch of junk," said Judith, who had been picking her way through a sleeve of crushed saltine crackers, a radio with no batteries and broken crayons from a suitcase. "Nothing here Carl would want."

The sunlight pooled into a patch on the forest ground behind her, Judith knew it was dangerous to be unprotected out here without permission, but she had to find something.

"Who's Carl?"

She whipped around, dropping the small knife Estelle had given her. Judith knelt to pick it up just as the figure of a young boy stepped out from behind that big ugly tree that was slanted in an unnatural angle.

"Where are your parents?" Judith called out. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

The boy walked into the patch of sunlight, he was the same height as her, with short spiky blonde hair and a hungry set of brown eyes. "I could ask you the same thing, little girl."

"Carl's my brother." She whispered, answering his question and stuffing the knife into her pocket. "What's your name?"

He stepped closer to her. "Leroy. You?"

She reached out and shook his hand. " _Judith_."

 **X**

 **PREVIOUSLY**

 _The woman stopped in front of him for a dreadful moment before she squatted and shoved the candle in his face._

 _The pole on her back, he realized now, had simply been a sword._

 _"_ _Rick?" She called out, wrinkling her thick eyebrows. "As in, Rick Grimes?"_ _ **-**_

 **NOW**

"Yes, but why? Who are you?" The guy squinted up in her face just as she reached for his hand and pulled him to his feet. He stumbled for a simple second before regaining his composure.

"Doesn't matter, hold this," she handed him the candle. "We need to get you out of here." Michonne interjected loudly, grabbing his other arm, ready to yank him toward the exit but as soon as she tried, the door cracked opened.

And in stepped Maxine.

She was carrying two crates, both filled with cans and packets of food. "So, I've got twice as much as you wanted, well because, I of course, was wrong for being late, so I'm sure the Viverly gang will be very hungry."

She handed the crates to Sonya and turned to Michonne, suddenly realizing Rick was standing right beside her, and her hand was on his arm. "What is going on here? What are you doing with _him_?"

"It's an escape plan." Michonne raged, and in a metallic flash, Michonne had whipped her sword out and had the blade in a high place at Maxine's throat, somewhere she knew would spill the most blood. "You're letting us leave here."

Maxine bit her bottom lip. "That is _not_ happening. How dare you come into my home—?"

Michonne clenched the threaded shaft of her weapon so tight that it dug into her palms. "How dare I? How dare YOU?! I seriously, _honestly_ , and whole-heartedly hope you didn't know he had children, that he had a son and a daughter when you decided to take him away and make them _orphans_!"

"I…" Maxine moved her lips but no words came out.

"Did you?" Michonne slanted her head, she could feel the bottom of her eyes filling.

Beside her, Rick sat the candle down on the ground and looked directly at Michonne. "Both my kids, they're _alive_?"

Michonne ignored him, didn't even look at him.

Maxine looked away from the two, and for a second, giving Michonne hope that she actually felt a bit blameworthy. But when she turned back, she had her gun outstretched. "I knew, I just _didn't_ care. Besides, I thought the boy was _dead_." She revealed, in a slightly menacing voice.

"Michonne, put the sword away," said Sonya, still carrying the crates. "We both know she's not going to let us leave with him."

Michonne didn't know what had happened. Maybe it was how hot the room was, or the fact that she probably would have had to go home without Judith's only family at the moment, but for someone reason she found herself whacking her sword in Maxine's direction.

The gun went off hastily, missing Michonne and hitting the wall behind her. But suddenly Maxine's gun had struck the ground with a _thunk_ , along with the limb that had been brandishing it.

No one had noticed what happened until their eyes went to Maxine, whose own terrified gaze dropped down to her hand which… _wasn't there_?

In fact, her entire arm was lolling in a thick puddle of blood right beside her feet. Maxine's eyes broadened with fright right before the scream left her mouth. It was an ear-splitting sort of sound, mixed in with the natural horror and confusion _. "What the fuck did you do?!"_

Thick, warm-looking spurts of blood began gushing from the painful stump where Maxine's arm was supposed to be.

Michonne opened her mouth to speak, but words couldn't be formed.

A whispery gasp escaped Maxine as her eyes rolled back in her head and she crashed onto the ground into the nasty pool of her own body fluid.

" _Michonne!"_ Sonya adjusted the food in her arms, her screams were almost distant. "We need to get out of here, _with_ Rick! We have to go before the rest of the _Sisterhood_ notices."

The blurry nonsense reverie Michonne was in began disappearing. "Yeah—we-we gotta go. Come on, Grimes." She pushed Rick toward the door.

 **X**

"You live close?" Judith watched Leroy pick through a tree and stuff some of the things he found into his mouth. She noticed that beneath his revealing tank top, he was very skinny, showing the shape bone, even.

"Sure, yeah, me and few people." He mumbled through the snacking. "You live up in that prison?"

She bit her lip, wondering what to say. "No—we um, I have a camp somewhere close."

"You have any food?"

"Yes, why? Do you need any?"

Leroy shrugged. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you're kind of eating off a tree there," she chuckled, pointing. "And you don't look very healthy. Do your parents feed you? Do you even have any parents?"

Leroy stepped closer. "I have parents, yeah. I just don't eat what they eat."

"Why not? I'm sure the food can't be that bad." Judith watched him carefully, there was something about him that didn't read _safe_. In fact, he seemed more of a lollapalooza.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what they ate," Leroy was close enough to kiss her, but instead he reached for her hand and began rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "And the reason I don't enjoy dinner, or lunch, or breakfast—or even the _seconds_ —is because they eat this."

"What, the berries?"

Leroy shook his head and turned over her hand. "Get the picture?"

A slight gasp came from Judith's throat as she snatched her hand away. "Yeah, I-I think I do." She watched Leroy, a sickening feeling gathering in her stomach. "They eat people?!"

"Just the hands," spoke Leroy, with the look of an imp. "That's the only part they enjoy. It's pretty difficult to find the living around here, so we're thinking of moving."

Judith backed away from him. "Wait—do you…?"

"NO, NO!" Leroy's voice climbed octaves drastically. "I would never! It's disgusting. I don't even want to live with them anymore."

She waited a second. "Good thing I think I can find some way to get you into the Prison."

"I thought you didn't live there, I thought you had a camp, Judith."

Judith sighed. "I _lied_. There's a lot of dangerous people out here these days, who knows what they would have done with that information? _Come on_."

 ** _X_**

Michonne pushed past the beautifully clinquant bushes with her sword, a clump of Maxine's blood at the end of the blade. The whole scene had been running through her head the entire time on the way back to their car.

"Michonne, you okay?" Sonya caught up with her, leaving Rick in the back. "You haven't spoken a word since. It's unlike you."

"I cut off her arm, Sonya, I—" Michonne froze as she reached the tree the car had been parked by.

The figure of a woman with fuzzy red hair stood beside Sid, her pistol to his head. "Don't move! Get by the car, and don't you try _nothin'!"_ She screamed wildly.

"Okay, okay, chill." Said Sonya as Michonne and Rick followed her to the car. "Who are you, anyway?"

" _Angelica_ ," said Sid, grimacing as the cold metal of the gun touched the back of his neck. "She's hot, ain't she?"

"Shut up." She shoved him. "Get in the car."

Sid obeyed and ducked into the back seat, where Terrance was sitting upright—looking like he'd just rolled out of bed.

"Now you ladies, get in your car, leave the guest."

"What? No. We just went through shit to get him out of there." Spoke Michonne, stepping forward, her sword outstretched.

She was ready to make a move until she realized that her hand was shaking. This was the first time she'd ever seen her hand quivering so violently while holding her weapon.

"That's right, shut up _bitch_." Angelica set the firing pin on her gun. " _Get in the damn car_."

"Fine." Said Michonne, getting a surprised look from Sonya as they slowly headed to their cars.

Michonne stopped beside Rick for the briefest second, bringing her mouth to his ear, tapping his hand gently and following Sonya to the jeep.

Michonne slid into the passenger's seat and Sonya packed the seats with the crates of food and stuffed herself inside beside Terrance.

" _Start_ the car, Wolfram." Michonne whispered.

 ** _X_**

Finding Leroy a place in the basement of Prison Viverly without getting caught had been fugacious. Judith gamboled down the hall that lead to the infirmary.

Judith realized that for the first time in a long while, she sort of felt… _happy_.

She walked into the usually cold infirmary and froze.

The bed he had been healing up in was empty, and Doctor Karson was replacing the sheets, a dull look on her face.

"Doctor K _-Karson?"_ Judith slowly stepped in the room.

 _No, no, no, NO, NO!_

"Judith, I've been meaning to find you." Doctor Karson let go of the sheets and approached her, she knelt down and grabbed Judith's small hands. "There's something you should know—"

"No!" A tear sprung free of her eye as she snatched her hands away. " _Don't tell me! I don't want to know!"_ A sob fell from her mouth as she rushed out of the room.

"Judith! Wait!" She heard Doctor Karson calling for her from the room but she kept on running, listening to the sound of her fat tear droplets splatting on the ground with every beat of her heart.

She was shaking her head furiously, not even paying attention to where she was going, that's why it was no surprise when she collided into someone.

"See? I think I like this place," spoke the bare-chested child in front of her. "Cold showers, vacant cells, dead zombie inmates, and even _sisters who like to bump into you every once in a while."_

Tears welled up in her eyes, for nothing could top this splendiferous moment. " _Carl!"_ She jumped on her brother, twining her arms around his neck and clinging to him.

Eventually, she pulled away just as Doctor Karson was approaching them with the widest smile ever. "Glad you know now?"

"Yes." Judith wiped away her grubby tears with a grin and turned to her brother. "Speaking of things I need to know, why are you half-naked?" She asked him.

Carl pulled the prison top he'd been carrying over his head and sighed as it hung on his body like a dress. "Now I don't know about you, sis, but being in a coma for 8 days kind of puts me in a shower mood."

"C'mere, bro." She whispered, grabbing his small bruised hands. "You should get some rest, Michonne'll be back with the food."

Carl's eyebrows knitted in confusion. _"Who's Michonne?"_

"I'll tell you all about her, she's _kind_ of the hero that _saved_ you." Judith threw her arm over his shoulder and led him down to her cell.


	8. Issue 8, The Teetering Swordswoman

**Issue #8, "The Teetering Swordswoman"**

The whole situation had been messy. Messy and perplexing. The entire time he kept feeling his heart beat against his chest like a rock. And in the end, he almost had his escape, almost got away from the Sisterhood.

But it didn't quite work out.

 _Perk up, Grimes,_ the swordswoman had said when she neared him, _I'm getting you back to your little ankle-biters._ _I promise_. Then she'd tapped his hand and walked off.

"Don't worry, Rick." Said Angelica as she continued wrapping the heavy chains over his hands for almost the hundredth time. "I'm sure we'll find something to do with you when Maxine's back on her feet."

Instead of the lonely cold room he had been resigned to before, he was tied to one of the tent poles. The room was half-empty with a long row of cots and items at the foot of each bed. Probably the belongings of the Sisterhood.

Rick released a breath. "She's still _alive_?"

Angelica finished and backed away to face him. "Yep. And she'll be back to deal with you."

"You know I didn't know those women were coming—I don't even know them." Rick immediately began defending himself with the truth.

"You sure about that?"

"Why would I lie? You're probably already going to kill me or…bury me alive or something." Rick drawled, feeling nauseated.

"So, you don't know Michonne? You've never met her?"

Rick furrowed his brow. "Who's that?"

"The short one that's good with the sword. _Michonne_. You've never seen her before?" Angelica rose one of her eyebrows.

"I promise. It's the first I've seen of her." It was sort of true, he hadn't ever seen her up close, been in contact with her. But there was something about her face that he remembered from somewhere, but he couldn't seem to place it anywhere.

"Good. She's a fucking troublemaker." Angelica looked stressed, frustrated and angry as she stood and combed a hand through her fiery hair. "I'm still trying to figure out why she'd want to save you. And if I find out you know her, I swear you'll be dead before Maxine can do anything about it."

 **X**

 _Zing._

 _Whip!_

 _Whoosh!_

Michonne sighed, sweat traveling down her arms as she set down the sword. She noticed that as she did so, her hands were still shaking.

She sighed. " _Shit, shit, shit_." Michonne stamped her foot on the courtyard ground.

It wouldn't stop. It could never stop. No matter what she tried, or new techniques she made up. Her hand just wouldn't sit still in its relaxed position it always used to be in.

"Who are you imagining at the end of that blade?"

Michonne turned, Carl was stalking down to the basketball hoop carrying a ball. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt and jeans that Sonya had snipped for him. "Nobody."

"You sure? You _seem_ pretty angry." Carl began dribbling the ball in between his legs. His technique was off and the ball just kept rolling away but he didn't seem one bit fazed about it.

Michonne smirked, peeling her hair from her neck. "Well, you don't know me, little guy."

"Did something else happen at the Grove? What's got you so worked up?" Carl tossed the ball to the hoop, it bounced off the rack.

"Want some advice? Don't ask those questions, you won't like the answers you get." Michonne grabbed the rag off the bench and wiped away her perspiration.

Carl stopped playing with the ball and walked over to her. "Try me. My Dad always taught me to not be afraid. Not like Judith, she's always so scared."

Michonne squinted up at the bright sun. "Your Dad never taught her the same thing? You know, girls can handle themselves just as much as boys can. We might not have the burly muscles, but we've got the _brains_ and the _treats_."

"My Mom never liked Judith to use guns or to train with me and my Dad." Carl shrugged. "Besides, if all girls weren't strong enough, you wouldn't exist. I saw you using your sword just now, you're _awesome_."

Michonne laughed out loud, her laugh echoing through the air around her. "You're pretty smart for an eleven year old, why the compliment?"

"Judith told me you saved me. She _actually_ called you a hero." Carl nodded slowly. "Thanks."

A small smile curved along her mouth. "I'm used to protecting kids. It's like a job."

"What do you mean?"

The smile disappeared quickly.

 _Andre_.

"It's nothing, I was just kidding."

"I'm going to go get some rest." Carl sighed, ready to walk away. But Michonne grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around.

She squatted in front of him. "I know I didn't tell you guys this before and I'm sorry, but you and Judith both seemed so happy." Michonne gulped. "Your Dad's a prisoner at the Grove. _The_ prisoner, the one I was talking about."

Carl's eyes widened, the jocular look vanishing completely, something she feared in the first place. "He's what? Why didn't you tell us?!" He backed away from her hand.

"I'm sorry." She threw her arms up. "It's a reaction of mine. I don't like ruining moods."

"Well, you should've." Carl stared at her as if she were someone he hoped he'd see the back of. "You're no hero." He backed away again, and headed inside.

 ** _X_**

"I was asleep for a while…but then I awoke, because I wanted to see you." Maxine spoke in a distant, rocky voice. The stump where her limb used to be was bandaged completely, no arm visible.

Her face was pale with dark shadows beneath her eyes.

Rick held his breath as she slowly sat herself down on the bed, grimacing. "You're going to kill me?"

"No—why would I kill you?" She asked.

He shrugged, releasing the breath. "Well, my savior _did_ amputate you."

Maxine shook her head, it was the first time he'd seen her hair out of its messy ponytail. "It wasn't your fault. Angie told me you didn't know her."

Rick sighed. "Angelica? Who is she to you?"

"Just my right-hand woman." Maxine walked over to him and helped him to his feet with her one hand.

Rick almost felt a bit sad for her, she looked miserable. "I'm supposed to have a code." She croaked out.

"Yeah, I know." He said. "The girl told me."

Maxine looked up from the ground with wild, surprised eyes. "Who? Skye?"

Rick didn't answer, knowing full well Skye had asked him not to tell.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt her." Maxine breathed out from her nose. "She's a sweet kid, anyway."

Her tone had completely changed since the first time he'd met her. It wasn't as dangerous as it used to be, Rick realized.

" _Kill_ men, _hate_ men, _burn_ men. Hell, I created that code." She continued. "Now it just sounds like a bunch of fucking nonsense." Maxine mumbled.

Rick sighed, watching her.

"And you want to know why?" Maxine reached behind him and began unraveling the heavy chains around his hands. He slowly felt the weight lift. "Because I met this one _numpty_. I hated him. He was a man, I was _supposed_ to. But…then I didn't."

Rick was confused, wondering what exactly he should say. "Who's this _numpt_ —?"

Before he could finish his sentence, Maxine had mashed her lips up against his. Using her only hand to pull his head toward her. "I can't"—Maxine pressed her lips against his, _hard_ , like she was trying to resist—"do this!"

She drew away from him, her swollen lips pink. "I'm sorry."

He just stood there, not saying a word. He didn't—couldn't even form a sentence. "I—What?" He whispered just as she hurried out of the room, holding onto her mouth.

 ** _X_**

"So, what's the plan?" Judith's arms were crossed, her eyebrows thick and mean.

Michonne buttoned her wool jacket and pulled the furry hood over her head, she sheathed her sword on her back and suddenly felt comfortable in her boots, skirt and hat. "We'll go back for him and we'll do what we can."

"And if you don't?"

Michonne sighed, biting her bottom lip. "I won't lie to you again," her eyes slid over to Carl who was coming into the driveway. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He was dressed in full baggy winter clothing, a knife in his hands. "I'm coming with you."

"No the _fuck_ you're not." Michonne spoke bitterly.

 _"Language_ , Michonne." Said Estelle, who stood beside Judith. "These are kids."

Biting on her tongue furiously, Michonne clanked over to Carl. "You keep not listening and you're going to find yourself in another coma. But this time you _won't be_ waking up."

Carl shrugged. "It's a part of the struggle, sister." He slid past her.

"Did you just call me _'sister'_? Don't call me that again." Michonne went back to Carl.

"I'm sorry. I just want to be there to see my Dad. What if he doesn't make it? What if Judy and I never see him again?"

She squatted down to his level and halfway smiled. "I told him I'd bring him to you. I don't lie to people."

He rose an eyebrow. "Well, you—"

"Let's never bring that up again, okay?" Michonne stood at her normal height and went over to the car. "You'd better not follow us."

Carl sighed, watching Michonne duck into the passenger's seat. "Don't worry _, I won't_."

 ** _X_**

Nurse Lillian continued wrapping gauze around Maxine's stump. "You're all good, don't worry." She snipped and taped away.

They were in the hot medical tent that no one ever visited.

"You think he bought it?" Asked Maxine.

Angelica stepped deeper into the room, her arms folded. "The _sad, lost leader_ card you played on him? Yeah."

Maxine chuckled. "I was good, wasn't I?"

"Yeah." Angelica leaned against the wall. "But the kiss…was that legit?"

Shrugging, Maxine watched Lillian finish up before hopping off the table in the tent. "No. But damn, are his lips _soft_." She grinned to herself, touching her own lips again.

"When are we sending a car to the Prison?" Angelica asked. "We can't have them thinking they're safe now."

Maxine made a face. "I don't know…that's exactly what I want them to think—that way they'll never see us coming."


	9. Issue 9, The First Hand of Many

**Issue #9, "The First Hand of Many"**

"It's called kissing, Judith."

"I _know_ what it's called, Leroy, I've just never _done_ it before."

"Really?" It was refreshing to see the genuine surprise on Leroy's face for some odd reason. Judith watched him as it was impossible not to because he was so close to her face that their noses were almost touching. "Never?"

"Ever." Judith swiped her tongue over her bottom lip. "My Dad said I never could." She moved a bit on the cot because her rear was starting to feel numb.

"I'm sure in some weird fantasy of mine, he'll never know." Leroy brushed aside a thickly set lock of hair behind her ear, though it hadn't even been in the way. "Kiss _me,_ Judith."

His hand slipped into hers, and he instantly rubbed his thumb against her knuckles like he did when they first met. " _You_ kiss _me_. What if I don't do it right? I don't want to look like a dumbass." She shivered.

The basement of the Prison was a wide, dark and open space. There were a few windows with sunlight spilling through the glass and a broken ladder against the floor. It was otherwise vacant if you didn't count Leroy's cot that they occupied, the stack of plates and folded clothes.

Leroy chuckled loudly. "This is the apocalypse. Judith Grimes, we could probably die tomorrow and you're worried about how stupid you would look?" He tilted his head. "In what world would that matter?"

"To me, it would." Judith said, thinking about how those kids at her school would ridicule her for wearing her favorite _Care in Beverly_ t-shirts.

Leroy tightened his grip on her hand for reassurance. "But not to me."

"You—you're _right_." Her shoulders were gripped with ice, the basement was freezing.

Leroy released a breath. "I can teach you, just—"

His words were smothered against Judith's lips when she had mashed her face against his, almost not catching his lips. Her forehead hurt like a _bitch_ , but she felt a weird sort of spark go through her body as he moved against her mouth—it felt sort of… _good_?

 ** _X_**

"Oh, guys, come on. Really?" Michonne tried to shield her eyes away from Sid and Sonya who were pressed together against a tree. She looked to the side and saw Wolfram's disapproving look, she almost wanted to laugh. "The Grove is only up the road and down a short hill."

"Sorry." Sonya backed away from Sid and began buttoning the top buttons of her shirt. "This _never_ happened." She looked at everyone, an embarrassed expression on her face.

"Hey, no fair." Joked Sid, fixing his messy hair.

Michonne directed the gang back to the road. "Come on."

The sky above was dimly lit, but you could still see the road. Michonne took long steps, the heaviness of her hair, her weapons and clothes making her want to walk back to the prison and get some rest.

"Guys, do you hear that?"

They all turned back to face Sid who had spoken.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Hear what? Your boner springing free again?"

"No. _Listen_."

Sighing, Michonne shut her eyes and sat still. Then there it was. It was like the sound of overlapping whispers and moans and it sounded _so_ close. "What the—?" She opened her eyes.

"THE HERD! THE F-CKING HERD!" Cried Wolfram, alarm in his eyes.

She took one moment to look back and gasped. The form of walkers were bunched together, their pace as slow as it had always been. It was just a shadow now, but she could see them visibly getting closer.

"Shit." She muttered, grabbing the hilt of her sword and tugging it from its sheath.

 ** _X_**

Rick was slumped on one of the cots in the tent, his hands were handcuffed behind him since Angelica had found them connected to his pants. He moved around and then just sighed since he knew there was no way he was getting free.

The tent door flapped open and Maxine bustled through, a wild expression on her face. She was wearing a green tank-top which showed off her thick cleavage and tan cargo shorts that rode low on her hips. Her stump was bleeding through the bandage but she didn't seem to care.

Seeing her made him remember what had happened only the day before. For some reason, it made him fear her even more. Rick watched her as she approached the bed and sat down in front of him.

"So, you haven't tried to escape yet?" She used her hand to play with the threading on the cot, her eyes on him intently.

The scene didn't feel right. First, because she was quieter than usual and second, he noticed that her hand—even as hard as she tried to hold it still—was slightly quivering.

Shrugging, Rick hid his suspicion. "No. I've been sitting here _waiting_ for you to let me go—or maybe Angelica, she seems to be the one running the show these days." Rick slanted his head and watched her.

"No, she hasn't." Maxine shook her head.

Rick nodded. "Yes she has. She even told me she'd _kill me_ before you could. Does that bother you?"

Maxine didn't seem to fully be paying attention to Rick, her eyes kept wandering to the side, up and even to her own hands. "Not really."

"As a sheriff's deputy, I've seen people, heard their stories, even put them away." Rick said, sitting up on the cot. "But in my lifetime, seeing what I've seen, I know that even though you've gone through some deep nasty shit or even done some of it, you still have a chance to change."

"What do you mean by that?" She squinted at him.

Rick shrugged again. "Well, after what Skye told me about you—"

"Skye never told you anything about me."

Confused, Rick furrowed his brows. "What? Yes, she told me—"

For a quick flying second, a fiery panic went through Maxine's eyes as she hurriedly reached for the side of his shirt and pulled him toward her, quickly slamming her lips into his.

It caught him off guard, causing his eyes to widen. "What are you doing?" He asked against her, his voice muffled.

Maxine moved her head to the side, though their lips were connected, she wasn't really kissing him. "She's watching us." She whispered, running her hand over his back.

Rick couldn't really move, couldn't even push her off since his hands were cuffed. "Who?"

"Ange _lica_." Her voice shook at the last syllable of the name.

Behind his back, he felt something plop against his hand, something small and metallic. He balled his fist around it.

Maxine curved her body against him. He guessed she was trying to _make it look real_.

"It's the key to the handcuffs. Don't use it yet, though. I'll send you a signal, that's when you make a break for it." She pulled away, a single droplet of sweat sliding down the side of her head.

He wanted to ask her what the _hell_ was going on, but it was the expression on her face that left him shook. Right now, she wasn't the bossy leader with the attitude. She was a woman scared shitless.

Maxine backed away before turning and leaving the room.

 ** _X_**

"You're not doing this." Wolfram looked frustrated, scared and annoyed all at the same as he watched her pull her sword out. He always seemed to want to stop her whenever she wanted to help out and save the Viverly gang.

"What else can we do?" Perspiration dribbled down her back and arms, and she could feel her feet shaking in her boots. "I'm not going back to Viverly without getting what I came for. _You_ can, though."

"No. Not this time." He reached out and clamped his big hand over her small wrist. "I won't let you."

"Wolfram, let me go." She fought against his hold so hard that her sword slipped out of her hand and clanked to the ground.

When she was ready to tell Wolfram about it, he had already began dragging her in the other direction.

Literally. _Dragging_. Her.

He was running in a quick pace with Michonne behind him, not able to balance herself on her feet. Finally, she broke free and rushed back.

Her sword lay on the ground and only a few inches away was the beginning of the herd. The first walker was a woman with a torn, bloody wedding dress. The bride's intestines were spilling out, half-eaten.

Michonne couldn't let herself feel sick as she slid low on the ground to grab her weapon. As she prepared to wrap her hands around the hilt, something incredible strong seized some of the locks from in her head.

The bride had gotten ahold of her hair.

As Michonne tried to pull herself back, she heard and felt a twist being torn from her scalp.

She dropped onto her knees and grabbed her sword. She wasted no second as she zipped her sword through the arms that had been gripping her hair so tightly. The clench on her brain lessened and the wrinkly, dead arms splatted on the ground.

"We should go, Michonne." Said the voice of Wolfram.

She looked back and realized the group had caught up with her.

Sighing, Michonne sheathed her sword. "That's a good idea."

 _ **X**_

They had took cover in the woods and surprisingly didn't attract any of the walkers' attention. Michonne was on attack, she wanted to jump down and take down some of them.

She moaned in a low voice and touched the back of her head. "My head hurts."

"You're bleeding, Michonne." Said Wolfram.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Wolfram, that's what happens when your friend doesn't listen to you and ends up getting your hair torn out your head." She dabbed the back of her head with her hand, it came away red.

"You know, Wolfram didn't force you to go and grab your sword." Said Sonya, looking back at Sid for agreement, and she got a nod.

"Thank you, Sonya." Michonne said sarcastically before she reached out and handed Wolfram her sword.

He turned it over in his hands. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Cut it off, most of it."

"Cut what off?"

"My hair," Michonne turned her back to him. "It's dangerous to have it out here these days anyway."

 ** _X_**

The bathroom in Prison Viverly was the warmest place in the building. It had a substantial amount of space inside, with a few showers and toilets. There were also blankets thrown over railings that were being used as shower curtains since there hadn't been any.

Someone was in one of the showers, the beam was on high, but he couldn't see who it was. It had probably been Estelle.

Carl entered the room and approached Judith, who stood in front of the mirror wearing only a towel. She was wrapping her hair up into itself.

"I've been looking for you everywhere, Judith, where were you?" He stood beside the sink.

Judith turned to him. "I was busy doing stuff." As soon as she looked at him, he saw a circular dark red bruise at the base of her neck.

He put his hand there. "Is _that_ a hickey?"

Judith, panicked, smacked his hands off of her and backed away. "How the _hell_ do you even know what that _is_?"

"I used to sneak and read your blog, Judith. But seriously, where did it come from?"

Judith nervously opened her mouth when a voice rang out in the bathroom.

"Judith, I wish you had come in with me." The voice belonged to a dude, someone young.

Suddenly, a guy stepped out from in one of the showers, wrapping his hips with a towel. His eyes landed on Carl.

"Who the hell are _you_?" Carl looked to Judith, confusion and anger written all over his face. "And why are you calling out for my sister?"

Leroy didn't say a word, he just shrugged and glanced at Judith.

Carl rushed forward, catching up with Leroy and shoving him against the tile wall. "What the hell are you doing in here? How'd you get in?" Carl badgered, his face a mask of mystery.

Judith rushed forward, calling out her brother's name and pushing him off Leroy. "Listen, I helped him get inside. He's been sleeping in the basement."

"What?" Carl moved away from Leroy and his focus went back to his sister. "Why?"

She sighed. "He just looked like he needed help, is all."

"That where you got the hickey from?" Carl, towering above his sister, approached her.

She folded her arms and gave him the side eye. "That's none of your business, Carl. What are you doing down here, anyway?"

"I just came to ask for help," Carl look stressed, she realized, his eyes dark and baggy. "Michonne left with a couple of others a few hours ago, right?"

"Yeah." She put her hand on his shoulder.

"Good. That means they're not that far out. We can still catch up with them."

Judith sighed. "There's no stopping you, is there?"

He shook his head. "What do you say?"

"Only if Leroy can tag along." Judith looked at the boy in question, her eyes were smiling even though she wasn't.


	10. Issue 10, The Grayest Cloud

**Issue #10, "The Grayest Cloud"**

"Judith? Carl?" Estelle stuck her head in the cell. None of them had come in for dinner. And the cell was suspiciously empty.

"Something wrong?"

Estelle turned and saw Karson.

"I can't find Judith and Carl. Have _you_ seen them?"

Karson shook her head, looking completely clueless. Until her eyes widened. "They probably went after Michonne."

"Shit." Estelle hit herself across the forehead. "I've got to go get them. It's dangerous."

"We should all go get them," Karson tapped Estelle's arm. "I'll go get Terrance."

 **X**

"You're really good at this." Michonne complemented Wolfram as she felt long strips of her hair falling away, down her shoulders and gone. She was inwardly panicking since she'd been growing her hair for a long time.

"Yeah, I used to do my daughter's hair." Wolfram sounded uncomfortable as he spoke.

Michonne furrowed her brow. "I didn't know you had a kid."

He shrugged. "I barely tell anyone about Skye. She and Raya are the two people I keep on my mind every single day that I'm surviving out here. I have to keep reminding myself that they wouldn't want me to give up."

Michonne sighed and looked down at her fingers. "I know the feeling." She waited a second, contemplating whether she should tell him what was at the tip of her tongue. "I lost my kid, my boyfriend too."

"Sorry to hear that." She felt the weight of her sword's blade being lifted from her head and he handed it back to her. "All done."

Michonne accepted her weapon back and examined her reflection in the sword's blade. Her dreadlocks were a few inches below her chin. She thought she looked much younger, and different.

When she looked up, she realized something through the opening of the trees. " _Look_ , Wolfram." She tapped his shoulder.

"A clearing. We can get through." He chuckled a bit. "I'll go get the lovebirds."

 **X**

" _Rick_." He heard his voice as Maxine ducked into the tent, her voice and expression frantic.

Rick sat up on the cot, his hands free as he had already used the key. He just couldn't sit trapped for another second knowing that he could very well be free.

"The Sisters are distracted, you can go now."

He froze. "Wait—I need to know why you're doing this. What is going on?"

Maxine rolled her eyes. "We don't have time for this, Rick. You have to go, it's the last chance you have to see your children."

"I have plenty of time to see my kids. I just need an answer."

"As do I."

They both whirled instantly. The form of Angelica stood by the door, she was holding a sharp knife in one hand, and a gun in the other.

"Angelica, you don't have to hurt us." Rick stepped forward, his hands up.

Maxine bit her bottom lip and pushed past Rick to get in front of Angelica. "I'm not going to be your victim anymore, Angelica. I want to know where Lynette is."

Rick watched in confusion as she badgered emotionally. He knew that Lynette was her sister, and he realized he hadn't seen her since Maxine had decided to use him for batting practice.

"That's none of your business, I already told you not to release him."

"Why?" Maxine threw her arms up. "Why do you keep doing this?"

Angelica shrugged. "I'm tired of being bossed around by men, Maxine, don't you get it? It's going to be the new way of life and in order to live that life I need you here with us. Not with your sister, not with your husband."

Maxine sounded tearful. "So, is that what you did to Harrison? Did you kill him?" She turned back to look at Rick, her face was clear of tears. "Is that what you're going to do to _him_?"

Angelica didn't say a word for a quick few seconds until she started walking toward Maxine. "Your husband is still alive, Maxine, and so is your sister."

"So, where are they?!" Maxine piped, irritated.

"Maxine, what is going on?" Rick finally cut in, not being able to hear any more, he had so many questions.

"You say a word to him and I'll shoot him, Maxine." Angelica raised the gun in her hand, it was pointed directly at Rick. "You know I will."

 **X**

"The Grove is just up here." Judith heard Michonne say as she, Carl, and Leroy hid behind the large trunk of a tree. She could see the other three forms of Wolfram, Sid and Sonya and they were all carrying weapons.

She noticed the sudden shortness of Michonne's hair.

"You sure we should be doing this, Michonne?" Asked Wolfram.

Michonne turned around to face him. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"What? I don't want to die here. And why the hell are you so determined to do this? We could easily head back to Viverly and tell those kids that their father didn't make it." Wolfram tried to reason with her.

"You could do that? Just lie? Cause I couldn't." Michonne's shorter hair swung with every movement of her head. "Those kids are waiting to see their father again, they are counting on _me_ to get him back safe."

Wolfram didn't say a word, he looked down at his head, as if feeling a bit guilty. Judith glared at him, looking over to Carl's face, he looked enraged as well.

"I just don't want to let another kid down, again." Michonne said just before Wolfram could walk away.

"What do you mean?" He made confused eyes at her.

Michonne's arms sagged. "It was just me, my boyfriend Mike and my son Andre. Before I reunited with Estelle, we were trying to survive together."

"I didn't know this." Wolfram spoke exactly what Judith was thinking.

"Point is, they're dead," Michonne pursed her lips. "All because I wanted to try and find some stupid fucking toy that I used to play with as a child. I wanted Andre to have it so he'd have some inkling of how the world used to be like. "

Michonne paused, looking around and Judith saw the small tearful sparkle in her eye.

"I don't think I could handle it if I went back and told them that that man was dead." Michonne released a long awaited breath. "I couldn't—I just could not look into their eyes."

"There's a chance he won't survive, Michonne. Maxine is dangerous. She'll never let him go without a fight." Wolfram said, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

Michonne shook his hand off her. "Stop. I don't need comforting." She prepared to walk away but turned back and jabbed a finger at him as she spoke. "And that's _not_ happening. He's coming back with us."

 **X**

The situation didn't feel real at all. Rick was on his knees beside Maxine. He never thought he'd see her like this.

A victim.

They were in the house on the stage kneeling on either side of Angelica, who was watching the large Sisterhood from her view on the stage. "Maxine has failed us as a leader. She tried to free the prisoner and she's been having relations with him."

The room filled with gasps and angry voices.

"Today is a new day, sisters." Angelica smiled brightly. "Because today we erase a code she's been holding on for too long."

Rick looked to Maxine, she didn't look scared nor worried. "Maxine." He whispered.

Her hands were bound behind her with rope, along with himself. "What?"

"I—"

"Don't be worried," Maxine interrupted. "She'll kill me first, that way you can make a run for it."

He gulped, wishing he'd left when Maxine had told him to.

"Any questions, Sisters?" Angelica's voice rang out through the aisles of chairs.

"Although I wouldn't consider myself a _Sister_ , I have one." The familiar confident voice had come from farther in the room. Rick craned his neck to see who had spoken.

Sitting way in the back with her legs crossed, Rick recognized one of the women in the crowd. She looked young, with a fleshy, plump set of lips, a wide thick nose, and round brown eyes caged with curly lashes.

 _Michonne._ She stood from her seat and instead of whipping her sword out, she pulled a small knife from her pocket and flicked open the blade _._ "When is someone going to tell me what the _hell_ is going on here?"


	11. Issue 11, The Daughter's Retaliation

**A/N - I appreciate all and any of your reviews, whenever I get any. Enjoy! _Hopefully._**

* * *

 **Issue #11 – The Daughter's Retaliation**

 _Hours Before_ -

"This isn't going to work, Michonne, why don't we just sneak in and take Rick and go?" Sonya asked, walking alongside Michonne as they approached the hill that lead to the Grove.

"Because, they know where we live." Michonne released a long breath and faced the three. "Taking him and just leaving is going to get us all killed. If we can get Maxine, we're safe, probably. But we _are_ going to get attacked. Might not be today or tomorrow but someday they'll come back guns blazing, and I don't know about you but I actually see a future in Viverly."

Wolfram nodded. "That's true."

Sonya shook her head also, but not in agreement. "I'm just not sure. Are we going to take out all the Sisters? Do you have a plan?"

"Yes, I think I do." Michonne sucked in air through her teeth, her eyes on the group. "Listen, I know I've been putting us all in danger with my whole 'save Rick Grimes' thing—so if any of you want to leave right now, you can."

Sid stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I see why you're doing this, but I don't think I can. I'm all Terrance has and if I die out here, I don't know what it'll do to him."

"I understand." Michonne tapped his shoulder. "Get back home safe."

"I, ah, I think I'm going to go with him." When Sonya's voice rang out, Michonne's eyes snapped over to her direction.

She was surprised at her answer since Sonya was always ride or die. Things change, thought Michonne, hiding her disappointment. "Be safe."

"We will." Sonya and Sid turned away.

Michonne rushed forward.

"Wait." They turned as she pulled her sword off her back and held it out to Sonya. "Take this."

Sonya tilted her head. "No, Michonne, we can't possibly—"

"Just…take it. I'll be happier knowing you two are safe. I'm the reason you're out here."

Sonya wrapped her hand around the hilt and accepted it before looking up at Sid and nodding slowly. "We'll be careful."

X

The unoccupied doors of Grove awaited them and Judith prepared to take a step forward when she heard the sound of static.

She turned to face Leroy, which was where the sound had come from. "What's that?"

He looked down to his pants, where a walkie talkie was attached to his belt. "Just…probably my parents."

"I didn't know you had one of those." She looked over to Carl, then back to him. "Besides, I thought you got away from your parents."

Leroy unclipped it and shrugged. "That doesn't mean we can't keep in contact."

"Leroy, your parents _eat_ people." She snapped, furrowing her brows angrily. "You told me that yourself."

"What?" Carl stepped forward quickly, his eyes on Judith. "What did you just say?"

"Carl, _shut up_." She pushed him away, her glaring eyes still on Leroy. "Don't you think that would be something to cut someone off for?"

Leroy looked nervous. "I don't know what to tell you, Judith. There are worse things that people do."

"Are you seri— _are you kidding me?_ " Her booted foot stepped forward, she didn't know what she had planned on doing—whether it was to throttle him or to yell at him but she would have done something had Carl not moved in front of her. "What are you doing?"

"You need to calm down, sis. Tell me what's going on."

She opened her mouth to speak when something loud interrupted her.

"Lee? Leroy, you there?" A voice boomed from the radio in Leroy's hand. "It's _Mom_ , Leroy. I'm just checking in. Any progress?"

Judith folded her arms over her chest, raising one of her eyebrows. "Progress? Progress on what, Leroy?"

"It's none of your business." Leroy scratched the bridge of his nose.

They all looked toward the radio as soon as it crackled to life again. " _We've been out on the roads trying to catch something for dinner tonight. Are you still coming back to the camp like you said?_ "

"You're going back?!" Judith balled her fists. "I should have known you—"

Leroy, fear-stricken, turned to run only for one of Carl's feet to come out and knock him off his own. Leroy fell on his back, his nostrils flaring.

She didn't know why, or how, but since she had met him she never really fully trusted him, or knew anything about him. It made her wonder why she even let him in the Prison in the first place.

Judith looked at Carl with surprise, he was so young, yet strong enough to take someone down her age.

"This is not the right time to be arguing, Judith." He watched her with careful eyes. "We go in, we save Dad, and then we'll all talk about this." He gazed down at Leroy, his foot on his chest. "Got that?"

Leroy nodded, so did Judith.

"Alright, let's go." Carl pulled Leroy to his feet.

X

 _Now_ -

The Grove House appeared much differently now, maybe because of set and mood, the dim shine of the sun or maybe it was just him but the low triangular ceiling seemed much lower now and the room just felt like it was closing in on him.

 _Michonne_ , all sharp-chinned, determined and pretty-eyed, proceeded to tuck her knife into the back of her pants and not long after, withdrew a _Glock 17_ pistol from her belt. He recognized that weapon because it was the first model of a gun he'd ever laid his hands on.

Near his knees, a puddle of blood was slowly pooling out toward him. It was coming from Maxine, the white bandage on her arm was almost completely red.

Unlike Michonne, Maxine didn't look like she felt well. He saw through the corner of his eye that one of her eyes were dripping shut and her face was spilling droplets of sweat.

He wished he could say he was worried about her, but…he _wasn't_. The only thing on his mind was getting to see his children, which would _have_ to be the case if everything went his way.

Breaking the deafening silence, Michonne chuckled. "Silent, is it?"

Her voice was silvery and he was oddly accustomed to it, which was _weird_ because he was sure he'd never met her before that day she'd severed Maxine's arm.

Angelica descended the steps of the stage, she looked much confused. "What are you doing here?"

" _You_ know," Michonne looked around, as if inspecting what she was going to have to deal with and for a second, seeing all the women, a look of fear flickered in her eyes—it disappeared instantly. "I think you all know _exactly_ why I'm here. But I thought I was the one asking questions."

"Of course we know, but you're not going to get what you came for. This story has been read, forgotten and put away, why can't you just give it up?" Angelica rubbed her eyes with the one hand that wasn't carrying to gun.

"I should be the one asking you that. What's so important about this guy?" Michonne briefly pointed at Rick, her eyebrows knitted together.

Angelica shrugged. "It's none of your concern. You're not getting to him."

"How do you know that?" Asked Michonne.

"You know we outnumber you, right?" Angelica spoke.

Shrugging, Michonne played with the gun in her grip. "Not in weapons, you don't. My entire group is outside right now ready to attack your people—or should I say, _Sisterhood_?"

"Don't." Maxine's voice rang out from her spot on the stage. "Don't hurt them."

They all looked to Maxine.

"And why not?" Michonne waited for an answer.

A droplet of blood escaped Maxine's stump as she spoke. "They're not here because they want to, they're here because they were _forced_ to be here."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows at the same moment Michonne did. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Angelica took their _families_ , sent them off somewhere, they're here serving their time until they get their families back, their children and husbands." Maxine sniffed.

"Serving time?" An incredulous look flashed over Michonne's face. "Like a prison?"

"Exactly like a prison." Maxine nodded.

"Then why don't you just kill her then?" She raised the gun to Maxine's face, which felt weird in her hand because she was so used to her sword.

"Because we don't know _where they are_ , and if she dies—we never will." Tracy, the pierced one, held out her arm, a panicked expression on her face. "Please don't hurt her."

"And you know what that means, Michonne?" Angelica looked and acted as if she were invincible. "It means if you attempt to take our prisoner again, they'll have no choice but to fight back and you know why? Because they never know what I could do to the ones they love most. And you, Michonne, can't do anything about it."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

Michonne glanced to the door for a second before screaming: "Wolfram, _now!"_

X

 _"_ _Wolfram, now!"_

Just as the door burst open and Wolfram had tossed the thing in his hand, Michonne dropped down below the chairs and avoided the shot Angelica had already taken at her.

The room, she saw through the legs of the chair she hid behind, exploded with misty smoke.

Wolfram, through the blurry atmosphere, looked frozen.

" _What is he doing?"_ Michonne whispered, as she slowly crawled herself over behind a much thicker chair.

Following his line of vision, she saw a girl probably a few years younger than Judith. She was wearing a dingy pink shirt and blue jeans. She had wide green eyes, freckles peppered on her nose and puffy hair that rounded her smooth brown-skinned face.

On her wrist was a bracelet that looked like it had been hand-made and there were big beads on it. But the only thing that stood out from it was the wording on the beads:

 _Skye_.

Wolfram grabbed the little girl and buried his face into her neck. Michonne was confused, but she didn't have to time to feel that way as she dragged herself around the chairs. She knew Angelica was looking for her and she didn't want to give that woman the satisfaction.

When the door opened again, Michonne watched three dark figures sweep through the air and approach Rick, who had his arms still bound to his back. They were small—almost like kids, and they were carrying guns. She couldn't make out who they were but she knew one was a girl.

They forced Rick on his feet and the four disappeared from the room. Michonne heaved herself up, not paying attention until she saw that Angelica had already released a weapon her way.

Michonne was a bit late to turn and the knife broke the skin of her cheek before burying itself into the wall behind her.

She was nearly knocked backwards but she kept her composure, Michonne raised her gun and fired one, two, and three shots in Angelica's direction—she missed all of them because Angelica had flown behind the logs that made the stage.

Michonne blinked, wanting to swipe the blood from her cheek since it was spilling free but she knew her wound would hurt too much.

"Wolfram, _let's go_!" Michonne grabbed his arm and they bustled out the door.

 **X**

Rick stumbled through the dirt and grass, his hands were now bound in front of him because he'd jumped over his arms. The rope that had been tied to his hands were being pulled by the three people who'd taken him the Grove House.

They were dressed in prison jumpsuits which hung on them heavily. Their faces, he saw whenever they turned to tell him to hurry up, were streaked with grubby wet soil. That made it hard for him to discern who they were.

"You know, you three are a bit short to be kidnapping someone." He said quickly, trying to get them to turn again because he nearly recognized the shortest one.

There was no answer, just silence, only the tread of their footsteps.

Rick sighed. "I—"

" _Shut up, you're going to attract attention_." Said the shorter one, whirling around, and the others followed suit.

Rick squinted in confusion. "So you're not with the Sisterhood? I—"

The confused look left his face when he finally was able to see the shortest ones' eyes. They were huge with a dark rim circling the cloudy blue color almost exactly like his own. " _Judith?"_

His eyes quickly went to the side where he made out the other one through the grime on his face. " _Carl?"_

Something in his body flipped, his heart had begun beating fast and his eyes were quick to fill up. " _Untie me_."

"They'll see us, Dad—" Judith prepared.

" _Now_ , untie me, _now!"_ The unrecognizable one walked behind him and loosened the ropes from his hands.

The second Rick knew he was free, the second he was able, he opened his arms and closed them around the two dirty kids. "How—what are you doing here?"

"We followed Michonne." Whispered tiny Judith into his shoulder.

Rick had hugged before, but this time he felt the most intense wave of relief he'd ever felt in his entire life. "I missed you." He whispered, not being able to control his emotions that were coursing down his face as tears.

"We thought you were dead." Carl's voice was shaky as he spoke. "I'm glad you're alive, Dad."

Judith didn't say another word, just tightly hugged her father.

X

"You think what we did was wrong?" Sonya couldn't stop looking at Michonne's sword and feeling incredibly guilty. She twisted it around, catching her blonde reflection in it a few times.

Sid put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. "There are more important things, Sonya."

She shook away his hand and glared at him. "We left her to save ourselves, I think that's wrong."

"So, why'd you ask me?"

Sonya prepared to smack him when something came into sight. It was one of the Viverly prison buses. It was parked to the side of the road.

"What's that doing out here?" Sonya rushed forward, stepping over a dead corpse. She stopped in front of the window, the bus was vacant. "You think it was one of ours?"

"That wasn't here before, and all the buses were parked in Viverly." Sid shrugged and checked out the seats in the back through the open windows. "Must've been Karson, Estelle or…"

" _Terrance_." Sonya finished for him. "I'm sure whoever was out here is safe, they probably had to walk to their destination. Like how Michonne had us leave the car while we walked up to Grove earlier."

Sid didn't look confused. "This is a far cry from that, Sonya." He rubbed his hand along the vehicle wall. "There's no stores or houses around this area and I don't see any _roamers_ …"

"Sidney, I'm sor—" She reached for his hand but he moved away.

"Don't call me that."

She bit her bottom lip. "You let Michonne call you that."

Before they could get into another heated argument, she heard a sound. Sonya whirled, and saw a half-devoured roamer slowly and mindlessly toward them. It was a girl, probably a bit over Judith's age wearing a _Live Free, Die Slowly_ shirt.

"I'll do it." Sonya stepped forward and thrust Michonne's sword in the direction of the roamers' head. She missed and it slightly scraped some skin of its forehead.

"How does Michonne do it _? Shit is hard."_ She moved the sword to the side with a hard sweep and it severed the tip of its head. The roamer fell to the ground.

 _Dead_ and dead.

When she turned around to Sid, he was grinning.

"What?"

"Nothing," he reached over and grabbed her hand. "We should get back. You were right, they're probably safe."

X

The sky above had darkened into an unpleasant silence, Rick watched it, and the world around it. The open fields of Prison Viverly, the overgrown grass, and the darkest spot near the woods—he had no desire to leave this place.

Rick, leaning against the gate, felt a presence behind him and whirled.

"Judith, you nearly gave me a heart attack." He held onto his chest as she approached the gate beside him. "You okay?" He turned back to his place at the fence.

She shrugged. "I'm perfectly okay. You're safe, Michonne's safe, Carl's safe—I'm fine."

"So, what's going on with you and that Leroy boy?" As soon as he had said the sentence, Judith rolled her eyes.

The wind blew Judith's hair wild around the frame of her face, she made no move to stabilize it.

"Nothing, as of now." Before he could reply to that she quickly added a follow-up question. "Speaking of Leroy, have you seen him?"

Rick scratched his forehead. "He was your boyfriend?"

" _Dad."_ She snapped.

"Fine. Yeah, I saw him go over to the opening gate." He answered finally.

Judith turned to go away but Rick put his hand on her shoulder. "Everything okay, Judy?"

She didn't turn to look at him. "Yeah, everything's _fine_." After speaking, she strolled away.

X

Michonne hadn't noticed—not yet, at least—that Rick had been leaning against the gate to her cell, watching her as she was stuffing paper under her mattress. It had been notebook paper, completely written out with no spaces or paragraphs.

After she was finished, she dropped the mattress and reached for the needle and began threading it. Before he could wonder why she'd need a needle he saw the openly bleeding slash in her cheek.

"I could help, you know." Rick spoke finally as he stepped fully into the area.

Michonne gave a jump until she realized who it was. "Shit, you scared me."

She proceeded to knot the thread on the needle and scooted over on the bed where she could see herself in the small mirror on the wall. "It would be too painful," she said, poking the skin where she'd make the aperture. "I'd prefer I do it myself so I wouldn't kick you in the gut."

"True story." Rick stuffed his hands into his pocket. "But I'd be quick and it wouldn't hurt so badly. I've done this before, you know." He walked over to the bed and settled down beside her.

Michonne tucked a cord of hair behind her ear, silently chuckling. "No, I don't know."

"Really? Cause I seem to remember stitching up a wounded, inadequate Michonne Bainbridge in her drunken stupor."

Michonne's head whipped around to face him, her eyebrows bunched together. "What did you just call me?"

Rick swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. "Well, I remember you, of course."

X

She wasn't stupid. She may have had that moment where she let Leroy into the prison but things were going to be different from now on. Judith wouldn't let herself stoop so low.

Judith decided to give up her stealthy act and stepped down from in the trees. Leroy, who had been walking non-stop, jumped and turned the other way to run.

She lifted the heavy gun that had been weighing her down the entire time she'd been holding it and pulled back the hammer. It made a sharp click sound that resulted in Leroy pausing. "Take another step and this gun is going off."

Leroy whirled to face her. "What're you going to do? Kill me?"

"Well, I'm not about to do what you were going to."

He tilted his head at her. "And that was?"

"Have me for dinner. My brother, my father, probably some of my group." She slowly stepped toward him. Her heart thumping against her chest was the only thing she could hear in the dark night.

"That sounds a bit harsh but, hey, a man's gotta eat." He actually grinned.

Judith stopped walking. "I could kill you right now." _Maybe_. _What if I'm weak?_

"And have everyone wondering where I went? Would you really want that kind of blood on your hands?" Leroy looked as if he were ready to do something. She wouldn't let him.

"I'll figure something out." She made a quick sprint and smashed her gun against his head. He had to no time to react as he slipped to the ground, unconscious. Almost looked dead.

" _Judith?"_

She whirled, her gun pointed.

The figure that stood behind her slowly became visible as he stepped into the pool of moonlight.

Then she knew who it was.

"Carl." She lowered her weapon. "Now, how exactly did you find me?"


	12. Issue 12, The Recollected Lass

**Issue #12, "The Recollected Lass"**

There's something about waking up somewhere you didn't recognize that left you shaken.

She smelled fire and something else that had a foul stench.

Through her haze, Estelle Bainbridge could now see a fire, and inside that fire cooked meat—it was shaped oddly, but she couldn't tell what it was.

She gasped herself to clarity, but not a second later, dust collected in her eyes as she breathed.

Estelle had been face down on the ground in the woods near Prison Viverly—she knew this because she'd been out here before early on, except there hadn't been a camp back then.

"You're awake, _baby girl_ , good." The voice belonged to a man with a lilting British accent, he suddenly knelt above her. His heart-shaped necklace dangling just above her nose.

"Who are you?" Estelle squinted at him, he had long blond hair that was secured in a ponytail and hung down his shoulder. "Where am I?"

"At our camp." He reached out and pulled her into a sitting position, his grip was hard but she could barely feel it through her bloated purple coat.

He traced his hand down her cheek, and she faltered backward. "Pretty, aren't you?" He grinned. "Where're you from?"

"Brooklyn." She said in an almost whisper. "Why? Who even are you?"

The man grabbed a skinny stick from the ground and began twisting the meat around with it, the way Michonne had once taught her, to keep the meat from burning. "The name's Lance."

"Well, _Lance_ , I need to get back. I don't even remember how I got here. Just remember being…ambushed at the bus." Estelle touched the base of her head, where it had been throbbing the entire time, looking down at her hand after, she saw that she was bleeding.

"Yeah, we saw that, me and my girlfriend. We fought the guys off, brought you here to heal." Lance began pushing the meat into a worn plastic plate.

He thrust the plate in her direction. "Hungry, _baby girl_?"

Estelle coughed, and with a disgusted look, pushed the plate away. "No, that smells like— _I don't know_ , but that does _not_ smell good, it might be rotten. And please, _stop_ calling me that."

"What, " _baby girl_ "? It suits you." He sat the plate down.

"Stop pestering her, Lance." A woman emerged from the woods, the sun highlighting her freckly white skin. Her hair was short, black and straggly and she was carrying a basket in her hand that dripped with water.

"Fine, Jennie, I'll stop." Lance scooted away from her and proceeded to dig into the meat she'd rejected. Estelle fought the urge to hurl.

"What's that?" Asked Estelle.

She leaned the basket toward her, Estelle saw a bundle of wet clothes. "Just laundry, miss." Jennie continued toward the yellow tent that was set up to the side and sat the basket atop it.

"Hmm. _Wait_. Where the hell are my friends?" She remembered Karson insisting they all go to find Carl and Judith. And she recalled Terrance driving the prison bus. "I was on the road with my _friends, did you happen to see them?_ "

Lance shrugged, a weird confusion in his bushy eyebrows. "Friends? No, no friends. We just found you, one of the savages bashed you in the head with a _bottle_."

"We tried our best to stop the bleeding. It stopped but we don't have any bandages or supplies." Jennie sat down beside Lance, and used her hands to dig from his plate. "You hungry, girl?" She asked.

The manner of their eating, the smell of their meal, the outright kindness without suspicion of her—as Michonne had told her once: " _It's not real_." Estelle whispered, abruptly getting to her feet and breaking into the fastest.

She tore through the woods, and for the slightest second saw Jennie and Lance quickly coming after her. She slid to a stop, nearly falling into the pond.

"Oh my god!" She screamed.

In the not-so-deep pond laid the naked forms of Terrance and Karson. There were no visible marks on them that indicated wounds or bleeding. She could not tell whether they were dead or alive.

She now realized that the laundry Jennie had been carrying in the basket had belonged to her friends. She didn't know how she missed that.

As she had expected during her shock, strong arms closed themselves around her.

The creepy British guy, Lance.

"You're smart, baby girl." Her turned her away from the pond and dragged her back to the camp.

* * *

"You remember me," Michonne got a nod and continued her question, "as _inadequate?"_

Rick held his hands up, wearing a guiltless, almost comical expression. "Hey, don't get your knickers in a twist, that's what you called _yourself_."

Michonne sat the needle down and arose from the bed. "I _called_ myself that? I don't remember." She bunched up her eyebrows, trying to think back to that stormy night in May.

"I had gotten a call about the local _Snack Sojourn_ , someone had broken in through the basement window." Rick began diving into his story, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

The look Rick had on his glabrous visage struck her as the expression of someone who was struggling not to laugh. "The owner, an old woman, was so _pe_ trified she didn't even bother checking out who it had been—she just left and called the police. Little did she know who it was, _you_."

Folding her arms under her breasts, Michonne moved her jaw from side to side. "I don't remember this. All I can ever remember is waking up in the back of _your_ cruiser with a needle half in, half out of _my_ hip."

"When I went inside you were a _to_ ttering in _e_ briate and your hands were well-attended by a load of snacks." As he spoke, Rick pushed a crumbled piece of paper back and forth between his boots, while simultaneously leaning against his arm and twisting one of his curls around his finger. Still, his eyes never left hers. "But the second you saw _me_ , an armed cop, you dropped it all and bolted away.

When I chased after you, I caught you clambering up a few boxes to the window you had broken into. When you were _nearly_ out, a shard of glass broke off on your hip and you _fell_ out."

"That's when you brought me to your car and _not_ the hospital?" Michonne crinkled her eyebrows. "Why?"

She recalled bits and pieces, like the broken glass, hitting packed earth and the starry night rocking above her as she was being carried by Rick.

Rick brought his shoulders up. "Well, because at that point I recognized you as that news anchor, the one with the ropy hair."

 _Ropy hair,_ thought Michonne, stifling a smirk.

"I remembered reading a gossip magazine—" Before he could continue that sentence, a curbed laugh broke free of Michonne too abrupt for her to control it. " _What_?" He looked confused.

"A _gossip magazine_? Really?"

Rick tilted his head with a quizzical look. _"_ Don't _judge_. Judith left a copy in the patrol car, and I was fatigued out of my mind but wasn't allowed to sleep on the job, so I…i _ndulged_ in some reading."

She passed him a silent look that said, _just_ _continue_.

"Well, when I was reading I came across an article about you—it said your husband left you and took full custody of your son."

Then she saw it.

The unspoken confusion that went through his head. She saw—though his lips did not form the words—a question he wanted to ask her: _Where is your son now?_

Michonne severed eye-contact and ran her eyes over the corner of the cell where her clean clothes were folded neatly in.

She knew she'd succeeded when he began talking again. "So when I recognized you, you stopped being the crazy drunk who was blindly robbing someone, and became a person going through shit. _Deep shit_.

I-I _guess_ I was trying to be a hero and tore open the bleeding side of your pajama pants. I used my first-aid kit and sewed up your gash. As I was doing so, you woke up and you started telling me stuff. Like how you were empty-headed, gutted and _inadequate_.

After I was finished, I drove you home and after _that_ , I wrote in the report that the burglar had flown the coop. The case went away quickly."

Looking triumphant, Rick stopping kicking around the ball of paper and let go of his hair. "And there it is."

The side of Michonne's lip curved up into a crooked smirk. "By then, I thought you were only taking advantage of me."

"And you _didn't_ go batshit crazy?"

The smirk straightened, and Michonne slowly remembered blathering on to the cop who had her in the backseat of his car.

"I guess I was feeling a bit fruitless." As her eyes wandered off, he saw, she began speaking distantly—like she was revisiting a memory. "Losing a child came to be a real can of worms."

Rick cleared his throat against his fist and it flinchingly broke her from her muse.

"Anyways—" Michonne started.

" _Michonne_." Rick got on his feet and approached her.

She watched him, puzzled. "What?"

"Your face is spilling blood." He pointed to her shoulder and she gazed down, a pool of blood was forming right below her chin.

She instantly put a hand to her face and winced. Michonne rubbed the blood away on her pants. "You know, you could have said that in a _less pensive way_."

"Maybe." Rick stated as Michonne went over to the bed, grabbed the bandages, threaded needle and tube of peroxide and sat at the chair where the mirror was.

Rick squatted behind the chair, watching her apply the peroxide with a small cloth. "Don't you people have a doctor here? I'm sure you have an enormous amount of incidents."

Michonne sucked in air at the stinging sensation of cleaning her wound. "Yes—yes we do. I just couldn't find her. She's probably taking a walk."

" _Long_ walk." Said Rick, straightening his composure. "I'm going to go check in on Judith and Carl."

She listened to him pad out of her cell.

* * *

"Now, what are we going to do to you?" Judith actually seemed pleased as she traced Estelle's knife around Leroy's chest, she circled his chair with a chilling smile on her lips.

"Judith, _stop_." Carl, who had been standing in the corner of the Prison's basement, unhitched himself from the wall and approached the chair Leroy was tied to rope with.

Judith slanted her head at Leroy. "Maybe we could—"

"Judith, _I said stop!"_ He reached for the knife but she tugged it from his reach, holding it behind her. "We're not going to do anything to him. We have to tell Michonne, Dad, and the rest of the group."

She looked at him as if he were crazy. "Carl, do you have any idea how stupid that would be? They'd just let him go cause he's a kid and he'd just do this to more people. _Living_ people."

"Judith, I gave Michonne shit for lying to us about Dad. I'm not going to go around and lie to _her_. She deserves to know. _You_ let him into their home when knowing he could be dangerous, they should be the ones to handle this." Carl looked worried. "Can't you see that?"

"No. I'm sorry, Carl. I don't." Her eyes went back to Leroy.

Carl let out a big breath as he went for the knife again, but instead of moving it away from his grasp, she brought a hand to his chest and shoved him backward.

He stumbled for a moment until his head connected roughly with the concrete walls and he fell, unconscious, onto the ground in a rolling manner, his dark hair covering his eyes.

"Carl?" Judith dropped the knife and fell down beside him. "Carl, are you—"

At some point when the siblings were arguing, Leroy had rendered the ropes loose enough for his small hands to slip out of and he used the chair to slam it against the back of Judith's head.

Leroy couldn't help the smile that materialized onto his face and turned to leave, only for the door to be blocked by Judith's father, Rick.

"Leroy," Rick wrinkled his brows. "What are you doing down here?

* * *

 **Just wanted to thank you guys for the reviews. They mean a lot to me. Seriously, they make me smile and make my day.**

 **Btw, I got an email asking me if I could show the cast for my story and the answer's _yes_.**

* * *

 **Michonne Bainbridge played by Danai Gurira**

 **Rick Grimes played by Andrew Lincoln**

 **Wolfram Freitas played by Michael Ealey**

 **Sidney Binkley played by Jackson Rathbone**

 **Terrance Binkley played by Ben Barnes**

 **Skye Freitas played by Zendaya Coleman**

 **Sonya Torres played by Charlize Theron**

 **Estelle Bainbridge played by Lupita Nyong'o**

 **Judith Grimes played by Hailee Steinfield**

 **Carl Grimes played by Chandler Riggs**

 **Karson Juliard played by Alice Eve**

 **Maxine Hamrick played by Olivia Wilde**

 **Angelica Seaton played by Amy Adams**

 **- _Love you guys :)_**


	13. Issue 13, The Point of Comprehension

**Issue #13, "The Point of Comprehension"**

The prison was one big mystery to Rick, which would seem unlikely considering he was second-in command at King County. There were countless cells, only some of them occupied by the residents.

He was reminded he had yet to choose one for himself, or if he should. Rick remembered the day he'd been taken from the woods by Maxine and every time he thought of it, he remembered that they had been passing through those woods for a reason.

There _was_ a purpose and it was locating the trailer park Jeffrey resided at.

As impossible as it was to believe, there _was_ a much older Grimes brother.

Who, as his mother liked to say, had gotten the short end of the stick and instead of having the significant career that Rick has—or _had_ , Jeffrey had ended up living his adult life alone in a grimy trailer, only recently sharing it with his girlfriend Saundra and her golden retriever Kip.

Though big, finding the prison's basement was not one bit hard, it was behind that dented silver door that was in the corner of the kitchen.

He carefully set down the stairs it lead to and found himself in a small corridor. There—against the wall beside the steps—were three doors. One of them was open and lit up.

Rick wandered over, his already unkempt boots stepping in and out of deep puddles. When he approached the door, he saw that the boy Judith had been looking for—Leroy—was emerging from it, a chair behind him was the only visible thing in the room he could see.

"Leroy," Rick wrinkled his brows at the child who was only a few inches taller than Carl, reaching his own shoulder. "What are you doing down here?"

Leroy swiped his hand over his shoulder in a way that told Rick he most-likely was not in the mood to be bothered. "Judith never told you?"

Rick settled against the wall beside the room. "Told me what?"

Leroy pulled the door shut and twisted the lock horizontally. "I used to live down here for a while, I thought I'd just get one of the cells in the _B_ block."

He shook his head. "Have you seen Judith?"

Leroy shrugged, turning his lips downside. "No. Why? Something wrong?"

"No. Just wanted to check in on her. She was looking for _you_ , though." Rick then peeled himself off the wall and headed back upstairs, Leroy behind him.

* * *

"Where'd this come from?" Wolfram, who had been examining Skye's wrist, came across a jagged scar at the base of her thumb.

"You _know_ where this is from, Dad." She pulled her hands away and closed her right hand over the scar.

Skye scooted herself into a lying position to lay her head against her father's lap. They were taking comfort in the last cell on the B block, the first time in a long while she'd ever felt safe.

"So you're saying Maxine and her henchwomen never hurt you?" Wolfram asked, resting against the wall with his legs folded. He ran his hand through the coarse, feathered hair.

She shook her head.

"There was a rule for _women-on-women_ violence." She rose one of her eyebrows. "Dad, why'd you think I was dead?"

He released a long awaited sigh. "I came back to camp and you were gone. I could only assume…"

"Mm." She felt her lids shutting but she forced them open. "I think about _Mountainridge_ every day, their people, what they did to us."

"You shouldn't." He shook his head. "They weren't people anymore, the world changed them, their eating habits. Their _humanity."_

"I won't." She said.

" _Wolfram_ , is it?"

They both looked up at the figure standing outside of the open cell. It had only been _Rick_ —the prisoner from the Grove.

"Yeah." Her father answered, a flat tone dulling his voice. "You look warm and _comfy_."

Rick was wearing a strappy leather jacket with fur around the neckline. He adjusted the jacket on himself. "I guess you could say that."

"Not about us, though. We weren't warm and comfortable _at all_ when we went on that stupid mission to save you." Wolfram gently but ill-manneredly said.

" _Dad_." Skye hissed, as she sat up.

"Well, I can't exactly say that about myself either. Considering I was beaten nearly _unconscious_ with an aluminum bat." Rick tilted his head at Wolfram, a fixed look in his eyes that said, ' _anything else you want to say to me?'_

"You know, I never understood why Michonne had us doing that anyway." Wolfram unfolded his legs and stood from the bed, he slowly stepped out from the cell. "I mean, I even offered an easy way out but she still stood her stance."

"I guess you'll just have to ask her." Rick answered.

Skye's eyes went past Rick to the person that was walking behind him. He was a young boy with a prickly blond hat of hair on his head. He look at her as he passed by, the look sent shivers down her spine.

A _familiar_ Mountainridge shiver.

"Who's that kid?" She asked Rick, who had been silently conversing with her Dad.

Rick looked back to the boy as he disappeared behind a wall. "Who? Oh, that's Leroy. I don't know much about him but my daughter seems to, another person I can't seem to find _anywhere_."

Wolfram stopped leaning against the wall. "What do you mean?"

"Judith and Carl, I've looked everywhere but they are nowhere to be found."

* * *

It was painful, the sting that showered like a thousand volts of electricity. Judith wildly arose from her unintended slumber. Carl stood above her, a dry line of blood visible at the side of his face. She realized he'd just smacked her. " _Wake up_ , Judith."

"You didn't have to hit me." Judith pulled herself to her feet. "Did he get far? Leroy?"

Carl flipped his hair away from his eyes and shrugged. "That's not something I would know, since he locked us down here." His voice seemed weird, she noticed, like he was holding something back.

She didn't care at the moment.

" _Damn_." She drummed her hand against her forehead roughly. "We've got to think of something."

"There's nothing, I've already tried screaming and banging against the door. No one can hear us." Carl let his arms fall helplessly to his sides. " _There's nothing_."

"No, not about that. About Leroy. What we'll tell the group." Judith began pacing. "We could say he snuck through the gate and got in, attacked us."

"Wait— _what?_ " Carl's squinty eyes stared at her incredulously.

Judith stopped her train of thoughts to turn to him. "I just said—" She broke off when the basement light revealed to her the dry tear marks on Carl's face. A low chuckle escaped her as she approached her brother and put her hand on his chin. "Were you—were you _crying?"_

He shook his face away from her. "You just said we should lie to the group about Leroy, why can't we _just_ be honest?"

"That's not what I asked you." She pursed her lips.

Carl balled his fists, a struggling expression on his face. "You _knocked_ me out, Judith."

Judith's eyebrows wrinkled angrily. "It was an accid—?"

"You _snuck_ Leroy into the prison without telling anybody _."_ He stepped closer to his sister.

She made an irritated sound with her mouth. "I didn't even know he was—"

"Judith, you were _just_ coming up with a lie to tell to the group that lives here—the group that saved my life, kind of saved you—and rescued Dad from those dangerous girls." As he spoke a tear tumbled from his angry childish eyes.

"You're such a baby. You act like I'm completely making this up," she gestured with her hands as she spoke her words. "When I brought Leroy in here, _I_ thought he was innocent. I _liked_ him. I only found out _later_ on that he was a bad person. How is that _not_ sneaking in on his part? Everyone does it, but I hate it when y _ou_ tw—"

" _Twist your words_." Carl, finishing her sentence, swiped his tear away, looking as if he was no longer sad, as if he were no longer feeling anything. "I wasn't twisting your words, Judith."

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes. "Everyone around me always tries to find something negative about me, something to hate me for."

Carl sent a glare in her direction. "Yeah, you ever stop to think that maybe it's just not the people around you anymore? Maybe—Judith, maybe it is _just you_."

With an angry spin, she turned away from him and went to the corner of the room. Judith slid her back down the wall before angrily pounded her head backward on the wall.

 _Ching!_

Judith's eyes flickered open at the sound and she looked down to the ground. Two shapely metal bobby pins were sitting down in front of her.

They must've fallen from her hair.

She gasped, dropping to her knees to grab them. " _Carl_."

He turned to face her. "What now, Judith?"

She grinned, though the depth of the situation. " _You_ know how to pick a lock, right?"

* * *

"Is there a reason you two have been standing there for the last two minutes?" Michonne took note of the two figures standing at the door of her cell.

Sid entered the cell, the light filling his face so she knew it was him. Sonya followed after him and took a seat on the bed beside him. "How's your day been?"

"Not the usual _. No roamers_. Why?" She asked, crossing one leg over the other.

Sonya looked over to Sid, an expecting look on her face, she slightly nudged his shoulder.

"We've been out all night—" Began Sid, dully.

Michonne rose one eyebrow. "That's not safe, you shouldn't—"

" _Let_ him continue, Michonne." Interjected Sonya, holding a hand out. "You'll regret it if you don't."

She settled back in her chair and interlocked her fingers. "Alright then, what?"

"All night, we've been searching, as much as we can because the day we were coming back here we found an abandoned Viverly bus, but we can't find Terrance, Estelle, or Karson." Finished Sid.

Sonya reached into the pocket of her ratty jacket and pulled out a blue walkie talkie. "We found this where the bus had been left. We think it belongs to the people who took—"

Michonne began waving her hand in the air and standing up. "Okay, you two can stop talking right now. Estelle's in her room and I'm sure Terrance is somewhere reading those dirty magazines he keeps packing up on."

"Michonne, you haven't noticed?" Sonya bunched up her brows, getting on her feet. "Estelle hasn't been here since you've been back from _the Grove_."

Michonne chuckled softly and went to the door of her cell. "Come on, let's go see—"

Sonya put a hand to her chest, stopping her.

"It's no use, Michonne. Estelle's not in her room." Sonya held up the walkie talkie. "This is all we have to go on now. I've been eavesdropping on the other end and I've only been able to hear muffled voices."

"That looks _just like_ Leroy's."

They turned to see that Judith and Carl were standing in the doorway. It was Carl who had spoken and Judith was glaring at him.

"Well, Duh." Judith said.

"What?" Michonne eyed them. "Who's Leroy?"

"He's a _really_ bad kid," said Carl. "He's been staying in the basement where—"

Michonne looked non-plussed, like her brain was ready to explode any second. "Okay, _hold the fuck on!_ How did I not know any of this stuff? There's a kid staying here and Estelle's supposedly _'missing'_? That doesn't even make any sense because she would never leave the prison unless she knew I was back from the Grove."

Before _anyone_ could say _anything_ , her eyes had already slid to Judith and Carl, realization exploding all over her face.

* * *

 **I hope you all are not** ** _too_** **disappointed by this chapter, tell me what you think, I just wanted to get you to the tip of the roller coaster before I sent you down. Thanks for all the reviews you've sent me and I hope to hear from you again.**

 **Love you guys :)**


	14. Issue 14, The Brink of Her Bone

**Issue #14, "The Brink of Her Bone"**

"Are you going to eat that?" Lance watched her turn the piece of meat over in her hands, a superior note to his voice. "Cause we didn't have to waste our time cutting that for you—or even _feeding_ you. We just thought you should at least have one more meal before you bled to death."

Estelle looked up from her thoughts. "You thought I'd want _human_ meat as my last meal?"

"Well, what would you want, girl?" Lance scooted over to her, but she was bound to the tree with some kind of bondage so she couldn't move away. "Some _other_ kind of meat?"

Knowing what he was insinuating, Estelle dialed down her attitude. "No, I'm sorry." She looked back down at the flesh in her hands and gagged unintentionally.

* * *

"Oh, that's _right."_ Michonne was glowering as she reached for her coat from the bed. "She went looking for you two _idiots_ after I specifically told you to stay here. Wow, Carl, you _really_ know how to indulge in hypocrisy."

She shrugged her arms into the sleeves and pulled the furry hood over her head.

Carl stepped forward. "Estelle is gone?"

"Yes, Carl, _she's gone,_ along with others." Michonne marched out of the room and into the hall, everyone followed soon after.

"Michonne, I think I know who took her." He called, making her whirl around.

Her doleful eyes and pained expression was enough to know that this was intensely affecting her. Carl sighed and looked back to his sister. "The kid I was talking to you about, I think his parents has something to do with this."

"That Leroy kid?" Michonne's eyes went from both the children. "Why was he even in the prison in the first place and how did I never know?"

"While you were gone, Judith snuck him inside and he had been living down in the basement for a while. At that time, Judith knew that his parents were…" Carl trailed off, his eyes downcast.

"That his parents were what?" She asked.

Judith, rolling her eyes, sighed. "I knew that they eat people."

" _Eat—eat_ people? Judith, really? Fan _-fucking-_ tastic, guys. Thank you for finally letting me know about the danger you already put my people in." Michonne continued walking and everyone else shadowed her. "Now, where is this kid?"

No one replied.

She whirled to face them just as they saw Rick and Wolfram speaking by his cell, Rick slowly detached himself and walked over.

" _Where is he?"_ She demanded furiously.

Guiltily, Carl looked up from his feet. "He got away, had us locked in the basement. We used one of Judith's hairclips to get free. _I'm sorry_."

Before he could even get through his sentence, Michonne threw her arms up looking completely wild-eyed and hopeless. " _I can't believe this!_ I don't even know where to look now."

She furiously ripped the hood from her head as if she couldn't find the right emotional reaction to the problem.

"Michonne, _what's_ —?" Rick reached over to touch her shoulder but she swayed away. He extended his thoughtful arm again and this time she let him rest his hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Why don't you ask your children _?"_ And with a swing of her hair, she switched around and hurried down the hall.

* * *

"I heard what happened."

Carl looked up from his hands to see Skye, the girl who had been rescued from the Grove. He had nearly forgotten she'd been taking residence in the prison.

He quickly swept away his tears before she could see them and scooted over while she sat down beside him. "Yeah?" He rose one eyebrow.

"Yeah." She combed a hand through her bushy mane. "For what it's worth, I think Judith should take the blame, all of this is basically her fault.'

Carl eyed her for a moment before he looked back at his hands. "It's still somewhat mine too."

"How?" Skye tilted her head, looking almost exactly like Wolfram in the moment.

He went to look at her again, realizing she was _really_ asking him. "I never told anyone about Leroy when I had the chance and I was the one who convinced Judith to go after Michonne with me. I'm _sure_ that takes the cake."

"First off, you need to get that out of your system. That regret, because there is nothing that you can change now." Skye's voice got lighter, while she put a hand to his back. "And you've done all you can, right? You apologized even when Judith didn't. You're a _good_ person, you just had a moment of weakness. Everyone does."

"Really?"

"Yes," she brought her hand to his head and patted him softly. "Michonne is going through a tough time right now, _that's_ why she's so angry—I'm sure she forgives you, all she just needs is her sister and her friends back and then she'll be _okay_. Stop hating yourself, there are dead people walking around outside. Which, I think, is a much bigger problem you need to worry about."

Skye stood from the bed and waved before disappearing from the room.

* * *

They hadn't noticed—Jennie and Lance—that she had held the piece of meat behind her back and torn the flesh from the bones.

She used the sharp bones to scrape against the wiring that held her to the tree. Estelle could feel it loosening up around her arms.

Lance suddenly came into view, he looked down at her. His hand was covered with stick blood along with the knife he carried with it. "What do you say, after your blonde friend is finished you'll be next?"

She scowled, rolling her eyes. "Shut up, asshat."

Lance moved as if to say something back but she'd already been on her feet. Estelle swung her hand at him and prepared for a fight but Lance just collapsed to the ground, his face full of blood.

The bone in her hand had done great damage.

Estelle rushed back through the woods until she stopped at the pond. She wasn't going _anywhere_ without her friends.

But when she peeked over the edge and into the pond, the water was smoky with blood. Both Karson and Terrance were still in the water.

Karson had a bruise on her forehead, she was probably knocked out.

But it was Terrance's state that made her gag. His eyes were wide open, blue and distant. Where his limbs used to be were now bloody stumps.

On the side of the water was a mound of hands and legs. Estelle didn't scream, but covered her mouth.

She rushed over to the side Karson was closely at and pulled her from the water.

"Karson." She whispered. " _Open your eyes, you have to wake up!"_ Estelle hissed, trying not to attract Jennie's attention.

To her surprise, Karson's lids began fluttering open. "Estelle?" She turned her head to look around but Estelle held her head in position.

"Don't look." Estelle blinked, a grave expression etched into her face. "It's not good."

She dragged her fully from the pond and began pulling off her coat. "Put this on."

Karson was silent, confused and probably cold. Estelle watched her zip it up fully. It wasn't much but it helped cover the parts she probably didn't want exposed. "Come on, they're still around, the people who took us."

A gasp escaped Karson as her eyes slipped to the pool and finally, she spoke. " _Terrance_."

"I'm sorry, but we have to go. There's nothing we can do." Said Estelle.

* * *

Michonne hurried down the walkway, sword in hand, she'd remembered to get it back from Sonya.

She was rendered emotionless by everything that had happened—the things she didn't know.

There would be no one left if she lost Estelle—no more people to call family anymore. That sunk in as she unclipped the gates and prepared to head out.

"Wait! Michonne, could you slow down?!"

She turned, realizing Rick had been yelling at her the entire time but she hadn't heard him through the noise of her thoughts. "What _? What do you want?"_

"I want to come with you, that's what." In his hand was a crowbar, which she recognized as one of the tools from the basement.

"You know you have kids." She said, looking down at her own weapon. "Putting yourself in danger would be stupid."

"And you have a sister. _You_ going alone would also be stupid." Rick flipped the crowbar in his grasp. "Wouldn't exactly be a rescue if you got killed on your way there, would it?"

"And now I'll have to deal with the two of you." Michonne turned away, frustrated.

"Two of who?" Asked Rick.

Michonne pointed behind him. "Wolfram."

Wolfram was stalking toward them, with his machete tucked in his pocket. In the corner of her eye she swore she saw Rick roll his eyes.

"Guess you will," said Rick, pursing his lips.

* * *

"It's freezing out here, Estelle. Anyway, you think, we'll be able to make it to the prison before we turn into _ice sculptures_?" Karson stepped down the wet, littered road, barefoot, not sure when it had rained.

Estelle looked back at her and chuckled but quickly straightened her humorous expression. "I can't joke, not right now, it's wrong. Not while Terrance is dead. How are we going to tell Sidney? He's always so light-hearted and funny."

Karson, shaky, tucked her hands into her pocket. "I _wasn't_ joking, Estelle. But I'll tell him, if I have to. We've been friends for a while now."

"You knew Sidney before the world changed?" Estelle shivered, she could feel the cold hitting her through the thin fabric of her pink button-up shirt but wouldn't trouble Karson with her minor problem.

"He was an intern at the Hubert Mercy Medical Center, which was where I worked. We were together for a short while." Karson looked at her feet and then looked up and saw Estelle's expression; she nudged Estelle. "What?"

"Do you still love him?"

Karson furrowed her brow. "Who said I loved him?"

"Just a guess."

Moving her head to the side, Karson slightly lifted her shoulders. "Of course I do."

Estelle's eyes went to Karson, a bit of surprise in them.

"You know, I had a boyfriend too, but he lived in a whole other state." Estelle thought back to those normal times. "I'm not sure of his fate now."

"I'm sorry." Karson looked sympathetic.

Estelle shook that away. "That doesn't mean my life is over, though. I still want love like I used to and just the _thought_ of finding that in these times would be…amazing."

"I agree." Karson looked backward as if she'd heard something. "You think we lost them? Those people who took us?"

"Sure, yeah, we've walked long enough." Estelle released a long breath of air, suddenly in remembrance of the events that took place at the cannibals' camp. "I just want to hug my sister—hug her and _then_ deal with Terrance."

Karson tapped Estelle's shoulder. "You will _. I promise_."

* * *

Skye was sure her Dad would have at least told her he was going to leave before he actually went out but she guessed she was wrong.

She tried to control her anger by slowing her steps as she headed down the B block toward the cell that she shared with her father.

"Little girl, _wait up_."

She paused beside the cell, it was Judith's and she was sitting on the bed, her hands at torn prison jumpsuits—she was sewing them up into something Skye couldn't quite make out yet.

"Excuse me?"

Judith set down her work and stood, she stalked over to the door and leaned against the frame. "You're Skye?"

"Yeah, why?"

Judith didn't seem to be in the best of moods. "I heard what you said to my brother—about me, about someone you don't even _know_."

"Okay? I haven't gotten to your point yet. What are you trying to say?" Skye quirked one of her eyebrows.

Judith shrugged lightly. "You weren't in our situation, you didn't know what it was like and besides, I doubt you've ever had a bad day in your life."

"A bad day?" Skye looked up to the ceiling. "Try a _bad week_ living with cannibals who ate your mother and almost tried to kill you. Besides, I was only giving Carl advice, it's what my Mom used to say to me."

Judith didn't look like she much cared. She twisted her lip in an upward motion. "I'm just saying, no one cares about your personal opinion these days."

"Carl seemed to. He's a _good_ person, unlike some other people I've met."

Judith stepped forward, her hand automatically gripping the shoulder of Skye's shirt. "What did you just say?"

"Get off of me," Skye backed away just as Judith let her go. "I was only saying that if you were a real good sister, you'd be in his room comforting him and telling him the truth."

"And that is?"

"That most of this is your fault, that he shouldn't doubt his goodness because of you. That you've recently set a _bad image_ for your younger brother. Be _honest_." Skye shook her head at Judith wondering just how much damage it could have taken to change someone, or if that was just how she was before everything happened.

She sauntered away.

* * *

With every step she took, and every tread of Wolfram and Rick's footsteps behind her she saw something. Michonne saw Estelle being safely returned, she saw Estelle being attacked by a horde of walkers and she saw—

"May I ask why we didn't take the cars again?" Wolfram held a black curvy shotgun across his arms as the three drifted down the empty road.

Michonne didn't answer him, her eyes were on the ground in front of her—it was almost like she hadn't heard him.

"We'll cover much ground this way." Answered Rick, earning a half-glare from Wolfram.

Grabbing onto Wolfram's arm, Michonne gasped.

"What?" Wolfram eyed her.

"Look, guys, look down there!" For the first time during their hour long meander, Michonne smiled.

He followed her line of sight and saw what she had seen, two figures ambling up the steep road they stood atop, they were only visible because their figures were accentuated by the blinding sun.

"Come on!" Michonne's distant demeanor completely vanished as she accelerated down the road—Rick and Wolfram following after.

It didn't take too long to reach the people Michonne had pointed out, considering they had sped down the hill.

Rick didn't recognize them but by the hopefulness on Michonne's face, he knew these two people _had_ to be her friends.

" _My god_." Michonne's arms opened up toward one of the two girls who looked just like her—the same tone of dark skin, the shapely figures and the long springy coils that bounced on their shoulders. "Estelle!"

Rick couldn't help the smile that materialized on his face. He smiled at the unexpected shift in Michonne's emotions, at the fact that someone was going to be smiling today.

Estelle hadn't even been fully in Michonne's hold when the atmosphere erupted noisily with the most habitual sound he'd ever heard before. A gunshot.

Michonne toppled over and harshly slammed into the ground, her sword fell away from her hold and clanked to a stop at the edge of the road. Rick, alarmed, watched thick patters of blood misting thinly at her face.

Before them was the tall shape of a woman, she was wearing tattered clothing and a messy short hairstyle. In her hand, he realized with horror, was a pistol and it was smoking from being recently fired.

Instantaneously, Wolfram began firing rounds at the woman, who shielded herself and hunkered down to crawl up into the abundant thick-treed woods.

When Wolfram stopped firing, the world was silent again and the round shape of the sun seemed almost brighter than it had been.

" _Michonne_." Rick dropped his crowbar and hastened toward her, but Wolfram was there and already pulling her against his chest.

In her arms, he saw, was Estelle—a spacious, dark-blooded aperture going to and from her head—and as Michonne buried her face into her sister's hair and bleakly wailed, he swore he could almost see a crack of the scintillating sun through the open gap in Estelle's head.

* * *

The Prussian blue sky was peppered with stars, but even they weren't brightening enough to help the situation.

On another day he would have even been happy to see the flecks of snow slowly falling to the world.

There she was, _Estelle_. Her body unmoving, her skin the faint color of death.

 _She_ , thought Rick with a shake of his head, _deserved better_.

Rick took a slow, sad and angry sigh as he closed the windy tarpaulin he'd found over her body and secured it with a few rocks that had been laying around in the area.

He continued down the rocky hill, careful not to fall as he stepped onto the road where he heard Wolfram's voice.

"Michonne, _come on_ , we have to get you home." Wolfram was squatted next to her, a desperate look on his face.

She was in the same position she had been in before the night had fallen over, even her hands were still clutching the invisible space of her body Estelle had been lying in.

Michonne was covered in blood. Her face, clothes and hands. _Everything_.

"Michonne, _please answer me."_

The flaxen-haired woman _Karson_ who'd been walking with Estelle clicked down the wet road to Wolfram in just a coat. "She's not going to respond to you, I _told_ you that."

"So, then what am I supposed to do?" Wolfram asked her.

"I don't know, _something_."

Wolfram sighed. "Okay."

Karson turned away and her shoulders began shaking. "I _can't_ believe this," her voice was a shaky cry. "I was _just_ with Estelle and-and we were talking about—"

"Don't do that." Wolfram eyed her down with his pained expression, he leaned over and slipped his hands over Michonne's back and arms. "Not in front of her."

He pulled her up with him, carrying her the way Rick would imagine he'd carry a child. "Let's go."

Rick, unspoken, picked up his crowbar and walked the distance to grab Michonne's sword.

Wolfram stopped beside Rick and curved his brows. "You good, man?"

Rick scratched his forehead and said, "I'm not the one you should be asking that." Before going ahead in the direction they had come from.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for all of the reviews so far and I can't wait to hear from you all again.**

 **UPDATE: I removed the last part of this chapter because it wasn't working with anything I was coming up with, so yeah.**


	15. Issue 15, The Unspoken Truth

**Issue #15, "The Unspoken Truth"**

She used her spoon to chop a bean in half, and moved on to the next one, as _small_ as they were.

She couldn't put them into her mouth, because she knew she wouldn't be able to taste it— _and_ she didn't want to waste any food since she was sure they weren't getting any more from the Grove.

Sonya sat across from Michonne, eating away at her dinner but beside Michonne was Estelle, leaning her head against her palm, curls spilling over her hand with a sort of deathly dream in her eyes. "Penny for your thoughts, Michonne?"

Michonne turned back to her plate and blinked slightly. " _I wasn't really thinking of anything_." It was almost a whisper, but that was enough for Sonya to look up from her dish.

"Huh?" Sonya lifted her chin.

"What?" Michonne curved her eyebrows in puzzlement. "I didn't say anything."

Sonya nodded to that and went back to her meal.

\- **ISSUE 15** / _The Unspoken Truth_ –

Carl was sitting on the floor beside his bed and had his back against the wall of the roomy cell. He was deep in a book he'd found under his mattress. As the cover had said, it was about betrayal, politics, and some other thing called _plight_.

Thought he barely understood most of the things that were happening, the big words, or even some of the _short ones_ …it was nice to be living in someone's other universe for a short while.

"Is it any good?" Came the voice of Skye, appearing in the doorway.

She reminded him of someone from a cartoon he'd watched, with the big hair and pretty dark eyes.

Carl shrugged and shut the book, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not exactly sure."

She giggled and moved into the cell, sliding down the wall beside him. "How are you feeling?"

" _Shitty_." He ran his hands over his face slowly—for a moment wondering how his Dad would react to his language. "I skipped dinner so I wouldn't see her, actually more so _she_ wouldn't see me."

"So, you haven't spoken to Michonne yet?"

He shook his head _no_. "But I don't want to talk about it anyway, I just don't even want to think about it." Carl sighed.

"I get _that_." Skye nodded and then released a breath. "I knew him. _Leroy_."

Carl turned to her, his eyes wide. "You did?"

"Yeah," she swiped a hand over her hairline. "He used to be with this group who lived up in the forests. They called it the Mountainridge. My Dad, my Mom and I joined them hoping for sanctuary but…it was the complete opposite."

"Were they cannibals?"

"Yep—just itching for the chance to have us for dinner." Skye looked almost physically pained by the memory but he made no move to stop her from speaking. "One night, my mother disappeared from our tent and I went to find her.

That's when I saw them…eating, laughing, and enjoying themselves. Leroy and his parents just having the times of their lives. Before I could get a chance to defend myself, they caught me and left me with Leroy for a while."

She pulled up her sleeve and showed him a serrated scar that ran up her wrist. "He got me with a knife but by that time my Dad had shown up—didn't kill anybody, but he got us out of there. Lucky me."

" _Wow_." Carl reached over and ran his thumb over the scar. "This must've hurt."

Skye didn't move to pull her arm away. "It did. I screamed, that's how my Dad found me."

\- **ISSUE 15** / _The Unspoken Truth_ –

" _Kip!"_

Jeffrey stood on the steps of his trailer, looking under the lid of his hat for Saundra's white puppy, but through the layers of snow he could no longer see Kip. "Stupid dog."

He turned back to the trailer and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

Saundra stood at the stove in only a blue flannel shirt, her face over a steaming pot as she mixed it with a tall spoon. "You hungry, Jeff?" She called back to him without looking.

"Sure, what's on the menu?" Jeffrey grabbed the half-drunk soda and fell back into his chair and he watched her stand on her toes to get a better view of something on the stove, as she did so, her shirt rode up on her warm, dark thighs.

"Same old. Beans. I didn't want to use any more rice. That sound good?" She sprinkled a can of salt into the pot.

"Yeah, babe."

Saundra turned away from the stove and her eyes finally landed on Jeffrey. "Where's Kip?"

"He went out in the snow." Jeffrey shrugged, taking a swig of his fizzing drink.

Saundra sighed and put a hand to her head. "And you didn't even _try_ to get him?"

"He looks just like the snow, how am I supposed to discern him from it?"

She reached over to the coat hooks, pulling his off and slipping it over her arms. "Fine." Saundra walked over to him and tugged his cap from his head.

"I could just do this myself, Saundra." Jeffrey stood from the chair and sat down his soda.

"No." Saundra fit the hat over her tamed dark curls. "Kip is _my_ dog, stay here and man the stove."

"I'm not going to let you—"

Saundra rolled her eyes. "Yes you are, Jeffrey, and you're _not_ stopping me."

Jeffrey sighed.

"Be careful." He drew close and kissed her. "And don't lose the hat, it's—"

" _Rick's_ , I know." She zipped up her coat, went to the door, then his brave, pant-less girlfriend disappeared out of it.

\- **ISSUE 15** / _The Unspoken Truth_ –

"You told him?" Karson asked Sonya as they watched Sidney from the hall of the prison, they both were leaning against the wall.

Sonya nodded slowly. "Yeah, a few hours ago—he's been that way the entire time since."

Sidney was lying on his bed, flipping a knife in his right hand, not making a single noise.

"You should be in there with him," Karson turned to Sonya. "I saw you two earlier, you two are a _thing?"_

Sonya sighed. "We were, yeah. But…he stopped it."

"What? When?" Karson demanded in a hushed tone.

Sonya pulled a hand through her messy locks. "When I told him about Terrance he said that maybe I shouldn't be with him anymore. I asked _why_ , but he just kicked me out of the room."

"He's just doing what he's used to," Karson said, more to herself. "Pushing people away the second he thinks that something might go wrong with them."

Sonya furrowed her brows. "What? Did you know him?"

"Uh, yeah, before everything happened." Karson shrugged. "I was with him when he lost his Dad."

" _With him_? As in—"

"Yeah." Karson shrugged again, nonchalantly. "But we've been _over and done_ for a year now, so..."

Sonya shook her head. "I never knew that."

\- **ISSUE 15** / _The Unspoken Truth_ –

It was the **smallest** tear and yes, it was the **biggest** loss, but some people can actually move on from these things. This is _not_ permanent. While he was sure that they could all get through this. It was more important that _she_ did.

But what if he weren't here to witness that? This may have seemed impossible a few short days ago, but he had suddenly began feeling that severe ache in his chest, the one that only came around when he needed something.

 _Family_.

When the world was normal and you actually could see human beings walking around—not in the modern fashion, as you may think—Rick going to see his brother would have almost never happened.

But when he saw Estelle and Michonne reuniting, the joy of almost hugging— **that** made him miss his only sibling—and then it was **all** gone. Estelle was **gone** , and there were **no** promises **, no** farewells, and **no** plans. She was **dead** and there was **nothing** anyone could do about it.

Rick **didn't** want that to be the case with him and Jeffrey.

" _Get your shit together, Grimes_."

Startled, Rick stopped twisting his wedding ring on his finger and whirled around, his back to the fence.

Coming from inside was Michonne, she carefully shut the door behind her and stepped down into the grass.

"What?" He curved his eyebrows while watching her take her place beside him at the fences. Michonne slipped her fingers through them and held on.

She lifted her chin to him. "You look like you're about to cry. _Are you_?"

Rick shook his head and turned back to look at the stars, shielding his ring from her beside his leg. "No, I'm just…thinking."

"About?"

He tried to form the revelation, tell her what he was considering but the words wouldn't come. Rick whole-heartedly did not want to see that grin leave her lips. "Stuff."

" _Stuff_?" She repeated, curling her lips upside down. "You can't think about stuff, Rick, not in a world like this."

He turned to her. "Why not?"

"Because…there are people counting on you here. You have _your_ kids and I have my sis— _my group_." Her eyes went to the side for a second. "You can't be sad, you're not allowed to, not for a single second."

"I don't believe that." He twisted his whole body around to face her. "You can't control your emotions, Michonne. We humans aren't made to."

"I know that." Michonne nodded, leaning her head against the fence. "But you _can_ conceal them—paint on a smile for the crowd, keep it simple."

He always wondered why she never said his name. Every time they spoke he was expectant to hear the one syllable of his name from her, just wanted to know how it rolled off her tongue. _How would it sound?_

"I think you've been making the wrong rules."

Michonne untethered herself from the fence but before leaving, said: "Yeah? Well, I don't recall asking for your opinion on them."

\- **ISSUE 15** / _The Unspoken Truth_ –

"I know how to do it, I'm not stupid." Judith spoke breathlessly as she dribbled the basketball across the court unaware that Rick was leaning against the wall watching her. "

"Judith, who are you talking to?" He made his presence known by walking into the lines of the court.

She turned, surprised, and the ball dropped from her hand and rolled away. "No one. What are you doing out here, Dad? You don't play ball."

"I can't come up to see my daughter?" He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her.

Judith tilted her head to the side. "You haven't been to see me since you got here."

"I've wanted to—but it seems _you_ were up to some other activities." Rick raised an eyebrow.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Gosh, is everyone going to start bringing that up now?"

"I'll stop—that's not even why I came up here." Rick sighed. "I need to speak with you."

"Speak." She curled her lip below her teeth the way Jeffrey always used to.

"We're not staying here, at this prison." He told her. "You, me and Carl—we're _leaving_."

She didn't look angry, in fact, very relieved. "Finally."

"What? You want to leave?"

She nodded, walking backward toward the ball she'd dropped. "No one likes me anymore."

"You think Carl will have the same reaction as you?"

Judith picked the ball up and tossed it—it missed, bounced off the wall and into Rick's hand. "No, he's too busy getting to know that girl Skye, I think he likes her. If you try and make him go, he'll hate you."

He threw it back to her. "Let's hope not."

\- **ISSUE 15** / _The Unspoken Truth_ –

The cold wind swept over her legs causing Saundra to nearly trip over the neighbor's trailer's thick, frozen generator.

She walked around Jeffrey's trailer, her feet sinking into the dirty snow—she shut her eyes for a second and imagined she were berry squashing.

" _Kip_! Kippy! Come back boy!" She screamed into the air, which she knew was a bad idea.

But she didn't care. Her dog was the last thing that was family—except Jeffrey, of course—and if she was to _ever_ lose him she'd lose her mind.

A short doggy squeal went through the earth and she whirled around. "Kip!" She raced through the yard, around trailers, no longer caring that she was trudging through nasty snow.

She stopped in place when she saw a few Dead Ones outstretched toward something that was beneath a crate. It was dark so she couldn't see what they looked like but all she knew was they were moaning,

 _Kip._

She looked around, her eyes searched wildly until she saw the broken swing set—the wooden seat was on the ground unattached.

Saundra leaped for it, got ahold of the wood, recovered and tore through the cold air swinging.

* * *

 **Sorry to stir up any confusion but I could not find any possible way for my good ideas to fit with that last scene in last chapter where Maxine showed up at the prison. I removed that one-so just act as if it never happened.**


	16. Issue 16, The Smallest Limbs

**Issue #16, "The Smallest Limbs"**

Saundra grunted as she pulled the wood free of the Dead ones' jaw and it fell to the ground unresponsive beside the two others she'd fought off.

She sighed and dropped the piece of wood. Saundra dropped to her knees beside Kip who was moaning from inside the crate.

"Hey _boy_ …" She smiled as she lifted the basked over him and threw it to the side.

Instantly, he flew into her arms, but not as energetic as he used to.

" _Kippy?_ You okay?" Saundra was running her hands over his body when she felt something wet and slippery on her hand

She brought her hand up to view and saw that there was a thick red substance on her palm.

"Oh god." She hoped this wasn't what she thought it was.

Saundra turned him over.

Saundra's bottom lip curled outward. "No, my god, _no."_

In small pricks across his abdomen was a bite mark.

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

Sidney was attractive. _Very,_ at that.

When she first met him, he just seemed like a childish pervert; now she saw, as she watched him, that he was much different than that.

Sidney was stubbly-jawed with arresting features framed by hanging black hair that were, at the moment, folded behind his ears.

Sonya _hated_ that it would probably end this way. She dug her fingertips into the sleeves of her blue sweater as she dawdled into his small chamber of a room, each footstep of hers she heard as clear as day but not over the rapid pace of her heart.

Sidney was sitting on the ground in hebetude, a couple of adult magazines stacked beside his right knee and a pile of dark clothes resting beside his left.

"I miss you." She awaited his reaction as she spoke the words the way she used to wait for her father to stop hitting her mother, and as everything usually went down, it wasn't something she'd hoped for.

He swept loose, messy bangs from his shadowed eyes; Sidney looked like he were about to either yell at her or hug her—she wished for the latter. "Sonya, this—"

"No, no, I'm sorry, and I know you don't want to see me right now," Sonya dropped to her knees beside him and placed her hands on his knee for support, "but I made this decision today and we were always discussing things like this. I wanted to know what you thought."

Sidney released a breath. "This decision, what is it?"

Sonya shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Rick is leaving the Prison with Judith and Carl." She blinked to the side. "I want to go with them."

For a moment Sidney's eyes widened in shock or fear—or something else but it disappeared completely before she could further identify it. "I…"

"I can stay, though." Sonya felt like she were invisibly pleading. "If you want me to."

Sidney blinked. "Why would I want you to?"

A pang went to her heart because she was completely knocked away with surprise. "I—I would have thought—" Sonya broke off. "But I guess not."

"Bye, Sid." The words tumbled free of her impassively as she hurried to her feet and went out of the door.

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

"What? You're leaving? _Why?"_ Skye asked over Carl's shoulder as he stuffed his few shirts, books and weapons into a duffel his Dad had somehow come up with.

"I don't know, Skye, some _family_ reason." He sighed. "I can't believe he's doing this."

"So, you don't want to go?"

Carl shook his head, raking his hair back on his head. "No, of course not. I have...friends here. I bet he's just trying to find a way to fix Judith. He doesn't even like my uncle."

"Wait—Carl, _stop_." Skye put her hand on his shoulder, and Carl immediately pausing everything he was doing was his reaction to her touch. "Talk to me."

"Every time he takes us to Jeffrey's, they always end up in a fight and I don't want to go through that again." Carl sighed and dropped back on the bed, she fell right beside him.

"Well, why do they fight?" Asked Skye, her eyes wide and lips plump.

He faced her, trying to find the answer and form the words but all he wanted to do in the instant was kiss her.

It was one of those moments where you knew soon it would be gone but you looked back at those things you had and started to appreciate them more intensely than you ever did.

"Carl," Skye laughed shortly and tapped his cheek repeatedly. "You're staring."

His eyes snapped away from hers quickly. "Sorry—what did you ask me?"

"Your Dad and his brother, why do they fight?" She rested her head against her palm.

Carl looked down at his hands. "Well, it happened before I was born—"

"Carl."

They both turn toward the door, where Rick stood wearing a peanut-colored button-up shirt that was open at the cuffs. A messenger bag was attached over his right shoulder and under his left. Tucked in Rick's gun holster was a revolver.

"You want to speed this up and stop conversing?" He tilted his head.

Carl sighed and pulled himself to his feet. "Sure, Dad, anything else you want to force me to do?"

"Carl, I'm not—"

"You know what? Never mind. You never listen to me anyway." Carl shrugged his oversized jacket on and zipped it up. He grabbed his duffel and secured it also.

"I'll see you at the gate, Carl." Rick walked off.

Carl watched Skye saunter over to him after getting up from the bed. "So I guess you're leaving now." She sighed, he couldn't tell whether she was disappointed or not.

"Guess so." He ran his eyes up her, wondering what would happen next.

"Well?" Skye stepped closer.

"Well, what?"

"Well, are you going to kiss me or are you just going to be a douche and leave?"

He was surprised at her statement but the more he thought about it, the more he realized one thing. "I...I don't know _how_ to."

She laughed. "Me either. But I've watched the movies, read the books, even seen my parents do it and I think it goes a bit...like this."

Skye shut her eyes right before he did and he sat in the dark waiting—that's when he felt her mouth cover his.

Her lips were softer and warmer than he used to pretend they were and it wasn't as gross as he used to think it was.

She drew away quickly, her lips curving up at the sides. "Was I good? That was my first time."

"Yeah."

He didn't even have the time to feel ecstatic about it because he realized that this may have been the last time he'd ever be around her.

As he went to the door, his body felt heavy with sorrow.

He turned around one more time. "Skye?"

She looked up from her shoes; her eyes, he realized with a jolt of surprise, were filled with tears. "Huh?"

"I'm _really_ going to miss you."

Skye began fingering the locket at her throat as she smiled sadly. "Me too, Carl."

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

"Jeffrey, it's me!" Screamed Saundra, carrying Kip and bustling into the trailer once Jeffrey had pulled the door open.

She carefully laid Kip down in Jeffrey's chair and rushed into the kitchen area. Saundra rummaged through the drawers until she got ahold of the first-aid kit.

"Saundra, what is going on?!" Jeffrey screamed, tracing around her and over to Kip.

She pushed past him and dropped to her knees beside the dog. "Kip's been bitten."

"Wait, bitten?"

"Yes."

"Saundra, you know what that means."

Saundra scrubbed a damp wipe over the wound and Kip cried out softly, that just motivated her to do much more—to do everything she could. "Yes, Jeff, I'm full aware that we watched our neighbor turn into a Dead One after being bitten—but this is a dog, _my_ dog."

"What do you mean, _'this is a dog'_?" Jeff knelt beside her. "The bite still kills."

Saundra looked up at him, desperation in her dark eyes. "We've never seen an animal turn into a Dead One—we've never seen that, which means we _don't know_!"

He reached out to touch Kip. "I'm sorry, Saundra, but we have—"

"Don't _fucking_ touch him, Jeff, don't you _dare fucking_ touch him!" She smacked his hand roughly from her dog. "Do something useful and get me some damn towels."

Jeffrey released an angry breath and headed toward the back of his trailer.

Saundra smoothed her hand over his belly, a tear trickling down from her eye. "It's going to be okay, Kip. I _won't_ let you turn."

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

She used a nail file to sharpen the blade of her sword. Michonne was lying on her bed, her sword beside her.

The scraping sound did not bother her much because she was accustomed to it.

" _The sun a-peeked over the horizon_ ," she began singing softly under her breath, looking over to Estelle who sat in the corner of the cell, a small smile on her face. This song was one she used to sing to Estelle whenever they heard their parents fighting and couldn't find anything to block the noise out. " _And my soul was finally a-risin'_."

"Never knew you sang."

The subdued voice had come from Rick, who, as he was used to, had been standing at the door to her cell for a while without her noticing.

Her eyes flickered away from Estelle, and Rick looked to the place but saw no one.

"I don't." Michonne set down her tools and sat up.

"I came to tell you something—just wanted you to hear it from me."

"Heart what from you?" Her voice was light; Michonne eyed Rick from his face to his attire. He was strapped on with a bag and a weapon, and in his hand was a duffel bag. "What is going on?"

Michonne pulled herself into a standing position while Rick entered the room and stood in front of her.

For a second, he said nothing.

" _Rick."_ She urged—finally, after a long while, saying his name.

She wondered if he noticed.

He looked up after she'd spoken. "We're leaving the Prison, Michonne. _Me_ , Judith, Carl, and your friend Sonya."

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

Judith looked like Carl a lot, with dark straggly curls and pretty blue eyes—Skye noticed.

Judith was mumbling something as she pulled her hair back on her head. She seemed to be done packing with what little belongings she had.

Skye folded her arms over her chest. "Little girl." She said.

Judith looked up instantly. "What do _you_ want?"

Skye shrugged and entered the room. "I came to say goodbye, but you don't seem to be in the _best_ of moods."

"I'm not mad, if that's what you think." Judith leaned against the bed pole.

"I came here to apologize, Judith."

Judith looked genuinely surprised at this statement. "You did?"

"Yeah, I still do think that what I told you was right, but I was going into your business when it wasn't my place." Skye shrugged. "I usually wouldn't have apologized, but I couldn't leave on a bad note with you, or with anyone."

"So what did Carl get, a _goodbye kiss_?" Asked Judith.

Skye ignored that question and brushed a hand through her hair. "Hopefully we'll one day see each other again."

"You're nice, Skye, it's almost making me jealous." Admitted Judith, crossing her arms over each other too. "I still hate you, though."

"Hey, you wouldn't be Judith Grimes if you didn't hate _someone_ , right?" Skye smiled starkly as she left the room.

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

Saundra was sitting on the ground beside Kip, and it had been hours since he'd been bitten and he showed no signs of consciousness.

Jeffrey was leaning against the kitchen counter, had turned off the cooking beans and had his shotgun across his arms.

"You might as well put that away, Jeffrey, you're not shooting my dog tonight." Saundra ran her hand over him, she knew it was dangerous but she could protect herself.

But what if the worse didn't happen? There could still be a chance.

"I'm just taking precautions, Saundra." Jeffrey shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "If he so much as growls at you, I'm pulling this trigger."

"You don't have the right." She spoke through her teeth angrily. "I—"

Suddenly, Kip began making a low vibration noise.

"Kip?"

She turned him over. His bandaged body hadn't bled anymore, which was a blessing.

Kip rolled back over to his normal dog stance. A shrill dog squeak came from him and he began padding over to Jeffrey, taking normal quick breaths.

"See? He's normal—the infection probably doesn't affect animals." Saundra laughed as he jumped into Jeffrey's arms.

Jeffrey made a disgusted face. "Saundra, he smells _just like one of em'_!"

"What? No. He doesn't." She got to her feet and crossed the room to him. She moved her face closer and was brought back in surprise. "He kind of _does_."

The dog rested himself in Jeffrey's hold.

"So, why isn't he eating us?" Saundra asked her boyfriend.

Jeffrey shook his head. "I'm not sure."

\- **ISSUE 16** / _the Smallest Limbs_ –

She felt her heart drop out below her, something in her knees weakened and she didn't have any words that could describe what had went through her.

Why was she affected by this?

"Y-you're leaving?" Michonne spluttered, mashing her fingers together.

Rick pursed his lips the way she always did. "Yeah, I have a brother up in Macon. I was going to see him that day Maxine intervened."

He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. It was an address.

"Sonya too." She said to herself, shaking her head and tucking the paper in the waistband of her skirt. "That—that's _cool_."

Rick raised his eyebrows as if he were expecting more. " _Cool_? Okay, yeah, I guess I'll take it." Rick lifted his duffel strap over his arm and turned away, ready to go.

"That what you're just going to do, you're going to just _go?_ " She spoke in bitter words.

Rick whirled around immediately, walking back up to her. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, what if I never go to visit you, or you never come back. You're just going to _walk away?_ " She looked at him sideways.

Rick dropped his duffel, throwing his arms up. "Well, what do you propose I do, Michonne? Hug you? Because a second ago I believe you thought it was _cool_ that I was leaving."

"I didn't know how to react, Rick." She desperately searched for the words. "Of course I don't think it's _cool_. Rick, you saved my life and it's the only reason I went to the Grove for you and the only reason I don't want you to go _right now_. You _saved_ me."

Now Rick just looked puzzled, his blue eyes squinty.

"I saved you?" He chuckled impassively, as if he couldn't quite remember. "When?"

"When you chose not to arrest me—that exact next day I got my job back, and not a few weeks later my ex-husband gave me more time with my son. Even after all that I met my boyfriend Mike. If you had arrested me, I would not be who I am and I for sure would not have had those few happy years with my family. It was all because you wanted to be a hero." Michonne shook her head, a sort of sad-happiness in her expression.

Rick looked as if he didn't know what to say, as if he could not find the words.

"You don't have to say anything," Michonne put a frustrated hand to the tip of her nose. "Me trying to convince you to stay would be selfish."

Rick breathed in through his nose. "I'm glad I was able to help you, Michonne."

"I would hug you but it wouldn't seem like enough. Look out for yourself and your kids, Rick. I hope you make it to your brother." She grabbed his hand and shook it. "Goodbye."

Rick turned away, their hands disconnecting. He disappeared around the wall of her cell in the direction that lead out of the B-Block.

Michonne's shoulders sagged once he was out of sight.

 _Everyone_ , she thought, _they always leave_.

She straightened her composure when she suddenly heard the small sound of footsteps striding to her room.

She expected it to be Wolfram but with glossy raven lockets and steely blue eyes flooded with emotion, Rick Grimes was suddenly entering her cell again.

"Rick?" She called his name as he proceeded toward her. "What are you—?"

Michonne hadn't known what he was going to do, didn't know why she hadn't guessed the second Rick had lodged his hands on the back of her neck, but when his lips took shelter against hers, she was pleasantly surprised.

She wasn't even given the chance to delve fully into the sensation because he'd already drew away. In this moment, Rick looked ragged, with messy hair, wild flickering eyes and wet lips.

" _Goodbye, Michonne_." Were his final words to her as he calmly exited her cell, but unlike before, Michonne did not hear the tread of his footsteps coming back to her.

* * *

 ** _Finally!_ Right? **

**Thank you guys for reading this issue. I really enjoyed writing it.**

 **Follow me on tumblr walkerzombella, I follow back and please leave a review.**

 **See ya'll next time.**

 **\- Rue.**


	17. Issue 17, The Keepsake Beneath the Ice

**Issue #17, "The Keepsake Beneath the Ice"**

 _8 Months Later_

 _**T** he room was dark but lit warmly by a single candle, one that looked a lot like the one from the Grove; it sat on a circular desk and on the ground in front of that piece of furniture was one of the prison's mattresses and it was occupied by two figures. _

_Michonne was one of those figures; she was on her back wearing a silky fine purple dress that was torn on the side so her long legs were bared to the world. On top of her was a man and he was trailing his hands down her thighs as he intensely made out with her._

 _He was a white man, she saw, with smoothly crimped dark hair. But though she was not able to acknowledge his face, she could still make out a metallic band right of his forefinger. She only knew one man with that ring **.**_

 _Rick._

Michonne's eyes flickered open abruptly; she hadn't moved from her balled up position on her bed in Viverly. She pulled her legs outward and stretched them before setting them over the side of the bed.

Michonne yawned like a cat, with a hand to her mouth and kicked off her boots. After that she peeled away the red Christmas socks that Skye had taken from one of the clothing stores they'd found on their trips.

Standing from the bed, Michonne prepared to head out for a shower when she caught her reflection in the mirror. She wore a strappy asymmetrical purple dress. In the dream it had been torn at the side but here it was just custom-made as open at the right leg.

Flashes of the Rick's hands sliding up them went through her head and she traced it with her own fingers. It was easy to pretend that these were normal but when they recurred every night for eight months—guess you could say they weren't.

One of the things that went through her head whenever she awoke from one of the dreams was: _what are they telling me?_

\- **ISSUE 17** –

Ginny arched her back against Carl just before she rolled on top of him, running her hands through his hair. She laughed as he turned her back over and kissed her from above. One of her hands came up for his hair but accidentally slammed against the wall and some items tumbled free of the bookshelf.

"Shit, Carl, sorry." _Ginny Caash_ sat up quickly and pulled her shirt down over her belly-button.

Carl slipped off of the bed and began picking up the things she'd dropped which were a few coloring pencils and his sketchpad. "It's nothing, Ginny."

"I'm still sorry." She watched him as he collected the pencils but some of the sheets from the sketchpad that she'd dropped had fallen out. They were drawn out—Ginny realized—with a pretty girl.

The girl was probably the same age as herself with freckly skin the color of rich creamed coffee. She had long straggly locks of brown hair spilled over her shoulders and her gaze pierced the viewer as her eyes were the color of a golden moon.

The same girl had been repeated on another sheet just with different attire and numerous positions. It didn't take a genius to realize these were the same people.

"Who's that?" She asked, pulling herself into a sitting position.

Carl looked at the sketchpad, sat down his pencils and began collected the sheets. He stuffed them back inside the pad. "Just some piece I've been working on."

"Well, it looks like an important piece. You've drawn her like a million times." Ginny raised one of her eyebrows. "Do you know her?"

"What?" Carl looked up and scratched the tip of his nose. He opened his mouth, then closed it and then opened it the way someone did when they were trying to figure out what to say. "Uhm, yes I did."

"Who was she?" Ginny began buttoning up her shirt which had not been opened intentionally during their make-out session.

"Her name was Skye." Carl stood and packed his items back on the bookshelf. "She was just some close friend of mine—I hadn't really gotten a chance to know her before we came here but...I still miss her."

"Sounds sweet," Ginny grinned.

Carl looked at her with questioning blue eyes. "Are you mad?"

"No. Why would I be?"

Carl shrugged. "I don't know."

She shook her head before finishing her joke. "Well, I'm not. Besides, you're _way_ too cute for me to be angry with you."

\- **ISSUE 17** –

Judith remembered falling asleep on the ground outside Jeffrey and Saundra's small bedroom, which was half the size of one of Viverly's cells.

Sun stabbed through her eyelids as she slowly opened them.

When she stood up, she heard the voices coming from the room she laid outside of.

Judith knew it was wrong to be nosy but she couldn't help herself as she pressed her ear against the door.

"...do you think he's handling this?" It had been Saundra's voice.

"Not sure. But he has to suck up his emotions for now. We don't live in a safe enough world for him to be angry with me all of the time." Jeffrey said in a harsh tone.

Saundra came afterward. "But you do know the seriousness of what you did, right?

"Of course I do, Saundra, I think about it _all_ the time."

"I'm just saying, you can't exactly blame him for wanting to throw his fist in your face whenever he sees you."

Jeffrey sighed. "Do you hate me for what I did?"

"I wish you hadn't, yes." She heard Saundra's voice move closer. "But no, I could never hate you."

"That's good." He replied.

"Just know that if I had been here when you did that, we probably wouldn't be together."

"I know."

\- **ISSUE 17** –

Rick stepped out of the trailer, cold air immediately showering up his face; his body was protected with the blue sweater he was wearing. He was glad about that.

In the distance, he saw Sonya perched at the edge of the hill with her rifle. The only thing recognizable about her was her thick blonde ponytail whisking in the wind.

Rick headed toward her, stepping around the trailer's loud generator and stopping just a few feet away. "You been up all day?" He asked.

"Yeah." She didn't turn to look at him because she was staring through the scope of her rifle, one of her eyes curled in a dedicated squint. "Couldn't sleep, not after last night." She turned to him quickly and gave a small smile.

He pursed his lips and then scratched at his growing beard. "Have you seen anyone through that thing? I mean, walkers could be finding a way to—"

"You mean, have I seen a certain badass swordswoman by the name of Michonne?" Sonya chuckled softly, seeing the sheepish expression on his face. "Sorry, Rick, but no. It's almost been a year, and honestly, she's probably not coming."

Rick looked down at his boots which looked relatively new compared to any other pair of shoes he'd worn since the world ended. "I know that."

"She loves that place, Prison Viverly. Michonne was there when Estelle existed in that building, they used to train with each other there, tell sisterly jokes. My guess is she's not leaving unless there's a good enough reason to." Sonya said, flipping a fat curl away from her eyes.

Rick avoided that statement. "How long are you going to be up here for? Another full day?"

"I'm not leaving until I know this place is safe of walkers." Sonya twisted the gun around in another area below the hill and stared through the scope again. "Just because we moved the trailer up on the hill doesn't mean we're in the clear. The walkers could be getting smarter."

"That's true." Rick prepared to go inside but turned back to face her. "Didn't you criticize me about that, though? You told me calling them _walkers_ was stupid and roamers was much more fitting."

Sonya turned to him. "Well, I guess spending eight months with you kind of changes habits. Walkers just rolls of your tongue, doesn't it?"

Rick nodded. "Carl hasn't been out all day, has he?"

Sonya shrugged. "Nope. I bet he's up in his room with that Ginny girl—either that or he's drawing something. He's getting good. You realized that?"

"Yeah, I have. Just like his mother."

Sonya nodded slowly. "See you at dinner, Rick."

\- **ISSUE 17** –

As soon as the knife left Skye's hand, Michonne knew it would hit home, and it did.

The knife sunk into the tree ahead of them.

"Wow. I did it." Skye looked proud of herself. "I never thought I could."

Michonne headed down the walkway and closed her hand on the handle of the knife and tried to pull it out but it was hard. "But you're even better with the scratch awl, though."

"I know. That's only because of my Dad." Skye walked over to the bucket of water and splashed some over her face and hair. It smoothed down her natural curls. "And you."

"What?" Michonne grinned and she attempted to tug at the knife again. "No."

"What do you mean? Michonne you taught me how to slow my breathing and to focus." Skye raised an unbelievable eyebrow. "Stop throwing yourself under the bus all the time."

"I'm not-"

"You are." Wolfram said, heading down the hill toward them carrying a basket. "Always have."

"I like how everyone makes up their minds about me." Michonne joked, walking over and pulling out one of the green apples from the basket. She sank her teeth into it and sweet warm juice spritzed into her mouth. Michonne shut her eyes and savored the flavor for a simple second. "That is so good."

"I know." Wolfram sat down the basket and sighed. " _Blues!_ is empty now. There's no more food there, as big as the store was."

Michonne nodded. "Should we head farther out?"

"No. I already did last night."

"Last night?" Michonne curled her eyebrows. "You know it's dangerous out there, Wolf."

He shrugged slightly. "I was starving and I didn't want us to run out."

Michonne felt the juice from the apple spill into her hand. "So we're just running out of food and there's nothing we can do now?"

"Not unless we go into Macon." He said. "And that'll take a long week."

 _Macon_ —Michonne remembered— _Rick's brother lives there, and now so does Rick._

"I guess we have no other choice." Michonne bit into her apple again. "You should pack up, it's going to be a long drive." She walked back over to the stabbed tree.

* * *

 **I hope you all enjoyed the return. Tell me what you think!**

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	18. Issue 18, The Contemporary Threat

**Issue #18, "The Contemporary Threat"**

Judith prepared to leave from the door as soon as she noticed all the movement going around but she was too late and the wooden door opened and pushed her on the ground.

"Judith?" The tall appearance of Saundra Douglas—brown-skinned and puzzled—was standing by the door. "What are you doing?"

"I—" Judith prepared a quick lie.

"Were you listening to us?" Saundra interjected, turning to look beside her where Jeffrey now stood. "I think she was eavesdropping."

"Judith, really?" Said Jeffrey, her uncle, who looked a lot like Rick—if not exactly. "Didn't your Dad ever teach you better than that?"

"I was—I just heard you two talking and I—"

"What is going on here?" She felt a hand slip onto her shoulder and her father appeared behind her.

"She was listening to us." Saundra said.

Rick shook his head at them, a confusing wonder as his expression. "What's the big deal? What is it that would be so damn important that she would get in trouble for listening to?" He asked.

Jeffrey's eyes went to his brother—the two shared an almost telepathic conversation before Jeffrey spoke. "You know... _stuff_."

Rick eyed him for a second. He slid down to Judith's height. "Judith, I—"

"I already know what you're going to say, Dad, so just forget about it." She pushed his hands off her arms.

"And what would that be?"

"Oh, you know, a bunch of guilt trips and threats. I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Judith hurried down the hall to get away from them.

* * *

Sonya kicked the Remington rifle under the dresser which was the special place that held her ammo, clothes and personal belongings.

Her room of the trailer was the second of three, all the way in the back and tiny enough for just the two the slept there—herself and Rick. Judith and Carl both shared a bedroom with the twins Ginny and Garrett, who took comfort on the floor with a few pillows. Jeffrey and Saundra both had their original rooms just a door to the right of the kitchen.

"Who's there?" She called out upon hearing a soft moan, which sounded a lot like a cry.

Sonya pulled off Rick's cap and stepped out of the area of the room and into the hall; there were a few shelves that were cluttered with photo albums, empty chip bags, and a vanity table backed against the wall, it was stacked with makeup and sexy lingerie.

She crossed the hall, stopping only when she heard the moan again—it had come from the small closet beside the back door.

Sonya pulled the revolver from her front pocket and cocked the hammer. Her hand on the small knob, she counted a small three seconds before pulling it open—gun aimed.

"Oh!" She gasped in surprise when she realized it hadn't been any human—dead or alive. It was a cage and inside that cage was a white furry dog. She _loved_ dogs.

What was surprising to her was that he was inside a closet, locked in a cage. She tucked her weapon back in her pocket and pulled out the cage by its bars.

When she sat it on the floor, she proceeded to unclip the latch and the door swung open.

The dog moaned again.

"Come here, doggy." She pulled it out, her hands under his arms. "Why are you all locked up and put away, boy?" Sonya rubbed his head.

Her hand caught on something plastic wrapped around his throat that she realized was his tag.

 _Kip_ , it read.

"Kippy, boy." She grinned, at least there was something still normal in this world.

Sonya brought him up to her nose, to smell him, the fresh aroma of dogs—that one they always had.

But instead of the fabric-softener smell she'd hoped for, it was something indescribable.

She released the dog from her arms and coughed.

He smelled of something sweetly revolting. Something that wasn't rotten garbage or molded food, but something much more like the bodies she used to handle at her old job in the morgue.

"Sonya, what are you doing?"

She turned in response to the familiar voice of Rick and hauled herself to her feet. "It's you." She breathed slowly. "Rick, I head a cry and I followed it and...I found something." She moved aside so he'd see Kip.

* * *

"It's called being safe, Wolf, maybe you've heard of it?" Michonne spoke as she strapped on the arm protectors she'd found close to some damaged riot gear.

They sat in the courtyard on one of the benches where she remembered speaking with Carl nearly a year ago. It was hard to hold a grudge, and whenever she thought of that certain Grimes kid, she just couldn't find hate or disgust in her heart for him.

Wolfram placed his hand on her knee. "This is _not_ called being safe, Michonne, this is called finding an excuse to see your _cop boyfriend_." He tilted his head at her.

Michonne pushed his hand off of her thigh and began pulling the protector's straps tighter around her legs. "Rick's not my boyfriend, Wolfram, stop saying that." Although she was speaking the truth, she couldn't help but feel like she was lying.

"But it's true." Wolfram was already masterfully rendered in his riot gear, the un-damaged one—he'd claimed it since he had found it first. "And this is the first I've said of it."

"Rick is _not_ my—"

"Dad? Michonne?" Skye, carrying two bags, was heading over to them. "I've got my stuff all ready to go."

"And what about Sidney?" Asked Wolfram, looking around. "He even ready yet?"

Michonne shook that question away and stood. Her long purple, thin as the Vail of tears, dress spilled over the gear she'd just put on. "Yeah, he didn't have much to pack—just his brother's things—Sidney's by the bus, filling it up with my things and his things."

"His brother's things? Why?"

"Sidney just lost Terrance, Wolfram. He just wants to bring his stuff and _not_ forget about him."

"Whatever floats his boat." Wolfram pulled the weapons bag over his shoulder, a line of sweat dripping down his neck. "You both good?"

"Yeah, but I thought _you_ didn't want to come." Michonne stood and put the strap of her sword over her arm. "What's changing your mind now?"

"Well I can't just stay here and starve, can I?" He held his arms out.

Michonne furrowed her brows, her dreadlocked pigtails brushing over her shoulder as she moved toward Skye. "Actually, yes, _you can_. Me, Skye, and Sidney will do just fine finding Rick without you." She joked.

"That's right, Dad." Skye replied, grinning widely. "Michonne's like my second Mom anyway—she'll take good care of me. She taught me how to protect myself after all."

"Hey, I know she is. But a girl needs her father. It's the way of life." He followed after the girls.

"Yeah, right." Michonne shook her head. "I grew up without a father. She'll live."

* * *

"Hey, Judith." Ginny moved her hands from Carl's hair upon realizing Judith's presence at the door of their room. "You seen my brother?"

"No." Judith slugged into the room, her hair was like long dark mops. She never seemed to cut it.

Like, _at all_.

"He's a pervert." Judith said simply.

"Excuse me?" Ginny looked down at Carl, they were sitting on the bed, their backs to the wall, and Carl was focused on his latest work of Skye in his sketchpad.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't bother her.

"Let's just say, a few months ago I awoke from a thrilling dream to Garrett Caash with his hands down my shirt." Judith crawled onto the bed, her round pair of breasts slightly bouncing, making her look a bit older than she was, which was 15.

Carl's eyes widened. "He was doing _what?"_

"Don't start getting defensive, Carl. Long story short, he's a perv and I hate him."

Ginny shook her head. "Well, I'm sure you can understand. It's a messed up world out here. We lost our parents. What else can he do?"

Carl curved his eyebrows at Ginny's statement ready to speak but Judith had already begin running her mouth.

"I've lost people, nearly been killed, and done things I'm not proud of but I still don't go around raping people with broomsticks." Judith flicked a long strip of hair to the side though it had already been there. "Talk to Garrett. Tell him to stay the _hell_ away from me—especially his dirty hands. Anyway, I came to speak with my brother, can you give us the room, Ginger?"

Ginny slipped off of the bed. "It's Ginny, actually."

"Same thing. Can you shut the door behind you?" Judith waved until the door clicked shut.

Carl rolled his eyes and flipped his sketchbook shut. "You know, Ginny may have been a bit wrong, but you could at least _try_ and pretend you're still my normal sister."

"Ouch." She punched his shoulder and fell into Ginny's seat beside him.

"What are you doing here, Judith?"

"I'm still the same person, Carl. You act like I turned wicked overnight."

" _Judith_."

"What?"

"Why are you here? You know we've barely spoken in months."

She sighed and sat up to face her brother. "Don't judge, but I was eavesdropping on Uncle Jeffrey and Aunt Saundra and they were talking about something."

"Something?"

"Yeah, something that Jeffrey did, something that Dad hates him for." Judith curled her eyebrows. "Do you know what it is?"

"No." Carl said quickly in a high-pitched tone. "No, I don't. Why would _I_ know?"

"Just a guess, but never mind. Doesn't matter." She slid off the mattress and plopped onto the ground before going to the door, her hand closing on the knob.

" _Carl."_ She said lowly.

Carl looked up from his hands. "What, Judith?"

"You know that...that I love you, right?" She turned around.

After everything they went through, everything they did, he _did_ know. "Yeah, Jude, I do."

* * *

"He's been bitten?" Rick ran his hands through Kips fur, and some of his hair began falling away.

He passed him back over to Sonya. "I don't get it."

"Me either, but I saw the bite wounds on his abdomen." She shut the closet door. "Maybe we should go figure this out."

"Yeah."

They found Saundra and Jeffrey in the kitchen preparing dinner. The sky outside dark and star-full.

As Rick and Sonya entered the kitchen, Saundra turned and saw that Sonya was holding Kip in her arms.

"Kip." Saundra sighed. "Why do you have him?"

"Same thing I was going to ask you." Sonya said, letting Kip free onto the floor where he just sat still and unmoving.

Saundra sighed again and dropped the rag she was carrying, looking back at Jeffrey for support. "Couple months ago he was bit."

"Yeah, and we thought he'd turn." Jeffrey finished her sentence. "And he did."

Rick furrowed his brows. "He did? So, he's dead?"

"Yes—he's one of the undead." Saundra got onto her knees and sat beside her dog. "But he doesn't feast on human meat. Only those of his kind."

"Animals." Sonya said in realization. "I've never seen this before."

Saundra nodded slowly, running her hands over him. "Us either, at least before _this_."

"Why do you keep him, though? He could be dangerous." Rick said warningly.

"He's a bit more helpful than you think, Richard." Said Jeffrey, earning a glare from his brother. "If you're with him enough, or have his scent on you, the walkers—as you like to call them—will not see you as one of the living, but as one of the dead and they will ignore you. It's less messy than rubbing walker guts on your clothing."

"That's why it was easy for us to pack up on food and clothes, plus gas for the generator. We could go in and out of the city as long as Kip was with us." Saundra said. "Just don't let him bite you—it will have the same effect as being gnawed on by a walker."

"Got it." Said Sonya, looking over to Rick. "Now we have walker-dogs, Richard."

He chuckled softly. " _Don't_ call me that."

* * *

The prison bus was as comfy as one could get, _and_ it was safe, so that in return made Michonne feel protected. She sat by the window in the second row since Wolfram had taken over the wheel and Skye called shotgun.

Her sword had been laid across her lap, rocking almost nearly the whole time they'd been on the road.

Beside her was Sidney, deep into a comic about heroes and villains and science labs. A dark curly lock of hair hanging his face and it reminded her of a certain someone.

"Hey." She reached over and touched his hand. "I know you're up in arms, probably torn into pieces, and trying to keep a stiff upper lip, but I wanted to ask just once: are _you_ okay, Sidney Binkley?"

To her surprise he didn't blow a fuse and shove her away, instead he covered her hand with his. "I'm not." He replied bleakly.

His response truly saddened her. She hated when people were in bad moods or going through things—even though it was the same thing going on with her.

"But I will be. One day." He pursed his lips.

She smiled, pulling her hand away. Her happiness being short-lived when the car lurched to a sudden stop.

Michonne gasped. "Wolfram, why are you—?"

"Shh." He turned off the ignition and the window rolled down with a whir. "Get your gun out, Michonne."

When the window was fully down she heard the tread of footsteps toward the car; Michonne stared through her own window and saw two wooden light poles at both sides of the road, each with someone controlling them, sitting in chairs behind the light and twisting them around to see through the night.

A white man with a red beard stuck his head in through Wolfram's window. "You folks been around these parts before? You got something for us?"

Wolfram, confused, spoke lightly. "What do you mean, dude. _Got what_?"

"You know you can't cross over into Macon unless you've got something for us. Food, clothes, supplies..." The man peeked fully into the car. "Even the girl."

"What?" Wolfram sounded completely puzzled.

The guy pointed directly at Michonne, whose eyes widened in response. "The pretty black one back there. Make your pick or turn the other way."

"We need to get through here, buddy." Wolfram replied.

Michonne leaned forward against the back of Wolfram's seat, staring down at him. "Wolf, be careful. We should just give him some of our food."

"No! No." Wolfram called back to her. "They ain't getting shit. Sir, we are going to go through here whether we got stuff or not."

The man chuckled. "No. You're not. That's not the way Roland works. Pay up or drive away. It's _that_ simple."

"I don't give a rat's ass about the way this Roland guy works." Wolfram replied.

The man slipped his hands into his pocket.

One moment Wolfram was speaking about fairness and justice, and the next, a homemade blade was being thrust directly into his throat—blood began spurting everywhere, the words dying on Wolf's lips.

He choked, grasping at the knife that protruded from his throat, red liquid spilling from his mouth.

It took them both, Skye and Michonne, a moment of silence, a moment to truly and wholly realize what exactly had just happened before the screams erupted.

* * *

 ** _Cast update! Because we have new characters!_**

 **Sidney Binkley played by Jackson Rathbone**

 **Wolfram Freitas played by Michael Ealey**

 **Terrance Binkley played by Ben Barnes**

 **Skye Freitas played by Zendaya Coleman**

 **Sonya Torres played by Charlize Theron**

 **Michonne Bainbridge played by Danai Gurira**

 **Estelle Bainbridge played by Lupita Nyong'o**

 **Rick Grimes played by Andrew Lincoln**

 **Jeffrey Grimes played by Bradley Cooper**

 **Saundra Douglas played by Naomi Campbell**

 **Ginny Caash played by Chloe Grace Moretz**

 **Garrett Caash played by Austin Butler**

 **Jeffrey Grimes played by Bradley Cooper**

 **Saundra Douglas played by Naomi Campbell**

 **Judith Grimes played by Hailee Steinfield**

 **Carl Grimes played by Chandler Riggs**

 **Karson Juliard played by Alice Eve**

 **Maxine Hamrick played by Olivia Wilde**

 **Angelica Seaton played by Amy Adams**

 **Ginny Caash played by Chloe Grace Moretz**


	19. Issue 19, The Devil Gives the Slip

**Issue #19, "The Devil Gives the Slip"**

 _00_

This wasn't like that time Karson went on that run by herself and never came back, this was _heartbreaking_. Michonne was numb, she could barely feel her fingers or Wolfram's blood that had squirted onto her face.

Too many people were dying. Estelle, Terrance, maybe Karson, and now Wolfram?

Skye was sobbing, grubby tears on her small youthful face. She clutched her father's shirt, tugging and screaming. "Don't do this! Don't die! Please don't die!"

"Get the fuck out of the bus." The red-bearded man spoke suddenly, clearing the blur away. "Right now, or you three are next."

"Skye." Michonne spoke faintly. "Let's _go_."

Skye shook her head. "Not without him, not without my Dad."

"He's dead, Skye. You _can't_ save him now." Michonne's voice cracked as she unlocked her door, Sidney doing the same thing and they stepped out of the bus.

 _"He's_ _dead?"_ Skye whispered back in disbelief, for a moment stopping her attempts to wake him up.

The man rounded the car and pulled her out. She screamed and tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp. "Stop fighting, bitch."

Michonne thought once about taking her sword but she knew she would not be able to execute all three men before they killed her. "Skye, come here."

The young girl broke free of the man and threw herself into Michonne, her cries muffled against Michonne's hip. Michonne wrapped her arms around Skye. " _Shh_."

"Keep walking, now. I'm taking you to the cabin." The man spoke as he walked down the road, expecting them to follow. He turned once to say. "And by the way, all of your things are ours now."

 _01_

Rick watched the shaky ocean from the window of the room he was occupying; he knew that it was dangerous for the trailer to be atop a hill right in front of the ocean but he also knew that they would not fall unless they were physically shoved by something— or someone.

Farther across, Rick swore he saw faint lights and the figure of something moving in the beautiful ocean but since he could no longer see it, he guessed he'd just imagined it.

He sat back onto the bed and continued to flip through the photo albums that he had found in that hall that Kip had been kept at.

"I put Kip back in his cage," said Sonya, entering the room and shutting the door.

"You did?" Rick shut his book.

She nodded and plopped down onto the bed. "Yeah, I figure it really isn't safe for him to be out."

"So. What's the deal? You look like you want to tell me something." Rick pulled his knees up to his chest.

Sonya nodded. "Yeah, your children think we have been hitting the sheets together — at least your daughter does."

Rick tilted his head to the side. "Well, we do share a room after all. I can understand why she might believe that."

"I hate to say this but — " Sonya began fidgeting with her fingers. "I...I _miss_ Sidney." She admitted, her eyes on her hands.

'You love him." Rick watched her. "That's not wrong."

She looked up. "But it feels wrong because I know he doesn't care about me as much as I do him. That really sucks, especially in a world like this."

"It must." Rick's eyes went to the side for a second, the irony of this subject hitting him.

Sonya wiped away a tear that had fallen when he wasn't looking. "I'm glad it's you I'm talking to about this. I mean, you out of all people must understand what I'm talking about."

Rick blinked at her statement. "What? What are you—?"

" _Michonne_." She interjected, a friendly smile spreading on her lips. "I saw you kiss her at Viverly last year. I tried looking away but I couldn't."

Rick prepared to make up a lie, anything to make himself feel less embarrassed but decided that it would have been futile.

"I remember," he replied, thinking back. "And I remember the way she looked at me afterward. Like I had lost my damn mind."

"Well, you surprised her." Sonya said. "You kissed her _so_ quickly, Rick. It was like the snap of a finger, robbing her of any chance to respond or even think."

"You think?" He quirked an eyebrow.

She grinned with the side of her lip. "I know."

 _02_

The cabin they had been taken to was quaint, dry and small; Michonne held Skye's hand tightly with a grip of steel as they walked off of the empty road to approach it at the side.

Sidney, weaponless, looked like he felt useless.

"Little tips, girlies." The man with the beard stopped them outside. "Don't speak unless you've been spoken to and don't cry—Roland hates crying."

Michonne released her bottom lip from the hold of her teeth. "Why are you helping us? You _killed_ our friend." She looked down for a moment at Skye who was shivering, quiet and impassive.

"If Roland had known that man talked to me like that and he _still_ lived — I would be the one with a shank in my throat." He swiped his bloody hands together before holding one out to her. "By the way, I'm Jonah."

Michonne looked at his inviting hand and did not shake it. "You actually think I'm going to shake your hand after what you did, you _coward_?"

Jonah, rejected, put his hand back down. "Hey, I don't make the rules."

"But you follow them. Blindly and stupidly." Michonne shook her head. "Just take us inside. Do what I'm sure you've done to the few that have attempted to pass through here.

"Fine." He grabbed her shoulder and began ushering her forward, when they reached the door he tapped on it lightly. "Got some newbies, Roland, they got stuff too!" He called.

"Come on in, Jonah." A velvety, almost recognizable voice came from inside.

"Lady, you hate me, I know. But do what I told you before and you _might_ actually make it out of here alive." Jonah looked back at them and whispered. "Okay?"

Michonne rolled her eyes as Jonah twisted the door and pushed it open.

Coming into view was a tall man with a deep brown complexion, he had a glass of clear liquid in his hand as they all stepped up into the cabin.

With a faded hairstyle and a cleanly shaven face, she now recognized this person.

His brown eyes widened intensively. "You —"

" _Mike Roland?_ " Michonne could spit but her mouth was dry. "What the _fuck_ is going on, Mike?! What the f—"

"Quiet, _woman_ , I ask the questions here." Mike stepped forward, reached behind her to shut the door. "Now, how the _hell_ are you alive?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she released her grip on Skye's shoulder. "Mike, the last time I saw you, you were with—with _Andre_. I saw the roamer go after you, and there was so much blood. I heard Andre s _creaming_."

Mike took a small sip of his drink. "Well, of course that biter got Andre." He reached down and pulled up his pant leg, revealing a metallic prosthetic leg. "But it got me too. After I chopped it off, a friend saved me, unlike my girlfriend, who ran."

She got on her knees and touched the prosthetic. "I thought you were dead. I thought I couldn't save you—Estelle told me the bite kills..."

Mike pursed his lips. "Well, that infection went along with the limb."

 _03_

"Carl, this is stupid." Ginny watched Carl shrug on his blue coat and slip on a hat. He grabbed his sketchpad from the bed, making sure to stuff some pencils in his pockets.

"Ginny, I'm not going to get hurt, if that's what you're worried about." Carl moved toward the door but was stopped by Ginny, who threw herself in between him and the exit. "Ginny, please move."

"You're going to put your life in danger — go down the hill and into the woods where walkers could be — over some stupid drawing? It's _stupid_." She argued.

He sighed. "I'll bring a gun. I'll be quiet. I won't attract attention. Better?"

"Not for me, no." She folded her arms over her chest.

Carl didn't want to do this because it reminded him of something Judith would do, but he was desperate enough. "If you don't move out of the way I'm going to tell my father about what your brother did to my sister and my Dad'll kick his _ass_."

"You wouldn't. You're not like Judith."

Carl scoffed. "What would you know about Judith?"

Ginny opened her mouth to say something but the words didn't come and she scooted to the side, creating a pathway to the door.

"Carl?"

He turned to face her. "What?"

"I don't think I want to be with you anymore." She admitted, looking down at her sneakers to avoid having eye-contact with him.

Carl didn't know what to say so he just left her there.

 _04_

" _Drink?_ " Mike held out a glass toward her.

Michonne shoved his hand away, the liquid splashing on the carpet. "What the fuck do you think this is, Mike? No, I don't want a drink."

"Whatever you say." He handed the now empty glass to Jonah. "Why are you so uptight?"

Michonne's eyes widened in disbelief, her eyes going to Jonah. "My friend is dead now because of your man." She glared angrily as she spoke before turning back to Mike. "Are you really not letting people into Macon unless they give you their supplies?"

Mike shrugged. "That's the rules, yes."

"I can't believe this. You used to be so—"

"Sweet? Charming? You can't be like that now anymore, Michonne. You won't survive that way." Mike spoke as if remembering something. "Now if you be calm, I might let you and your friends here go. I just need a word with my man." He ushered Jonah into another room.

Michonne looked to quiet Skye and speechless Sidney just as Mike disappeared into one of the two doors on the right.

The fireplace was lit up brightly; Michonne paced back at forth. "So, what do we do now?"

Sidney shrugged. "We could just go now."

"But they have people out there." Michonne pinched the bridge of her nose before looking to the side. "We should go out the window before they get back."

"Good idea." He agreed.

Michonne hurried toward the window to try and get it open.

"You knew that guy, Michonne?"

Michonne stopped her movements to pause and think about the past—it all felt like a dream a million years away. "He was my fiancé."

"Oh."

"Don't worry about that, though." She put her hand on the window bar and tried pushing it but it wouldn't budge. Michonne sighed. "It's _nailed_ shut. We won't be able to leave as quiet as I wanted us to."

"Here." Said Sidney, picking up a metallic box, the words: DO NOT TOUCH was written in bold letters on the top. "Break it with this and we'll make a run for it."

"Or a fall." Michonne accepted the box. "We never know."

Sidney headed back and pulled Skye to her feet. He swung her up in his arms and approached the window behind Michonne. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Michonne drew her hand back and released the box toward the window. It went through the glass, making a loud crashing sound as the glass exploded into shards.

"Let's go!" She screamed, seeing the door to the room Mike and Jonah were in open.

Michonne moved aside for Sidney and Skye to fling themselves out.

" _You'll never get far!_ " Mike cried as he tore through the room towards her. Michonne got only her leg through and tried to push herself fully out but she felt his grip on her dress.

"Let me go, you monster!" Michonne kicked backward and then felt her dress being torn. The sound was almost painful.

Michonne prepared to kick him again but she felt herself slipping and soon she was plummeting from of the window, her body flipped and she slammed against the ground hard—a loud crack was audible.

Michonne realized that they had landed in the backyard on a wooden plank, which wasn't much. But there was a big drop below them. If they moved too much they would probably fall and break their necks.

Beside her in the dirt was Sidney and Skye, struggling to get to their feet. "Are we—?"

Michonne never got to know what he was going to say because at that moment, the wood gave away and it sent them over that drop. The last thing she heard was Skye screaming.

 _05_

Michonne jolted awake, coughing up liquid. Her entire body felt like it was being stabbed while under stinging hot water.

She also felt soaked with some sticky substance.

Suddenly a hand was pressed against her face, a cold hand.

She realized that she hadn't even opened her eyes. Michonne struggled to peel her lids open and when she did, a pale white face was coming into view.

Michonne only had to see the youthful blue eyes and unlined skin to know who it was.

She didn't know why, but a small smile tugged at her lips. " _Carl."_

* * *

 ** _Thanks for all of your reviews. 52? Wow!_**


	20. Issue 20, The Inescapable

**Issue #20, "The Inescapable"**

 **00**

She couldn't move, she was as still as one of those mannequins she used to keep in her office during her old news-anchoring days.

"Are you okay? Can't you move?" The voice of Carl was enough to calm her senses even though it was full of worry.

"S— _Skye_." Michonne croaked out, coughing in result. "Is she alright?"

Carl looked around. "Skye's here?"

"Find her." Michonne whispered. Just as Carl disappeared from her line of vision, she saw that she was lying on the ground of a dim forest.

"Skye. Wake up. Skye, _open your eyes!"_ A few minutes later she heard Carl desperately slapping Skye from behind her.

Michonne badly wanted to turn her head to get an image of that but if she even made the slightest movement her neck would have felt like it was on fire.

By the time Carl had come into sight again he was carrying Skye's limp body in his arms, bridal style.

"I want to go back and get help," he said. "But I don't want to leave you and that Sid guy out here. Mostly you. I don't really know him."

"The best thing you could do for me right now _is_ get help," Michonne smiled through her pain—letting him know she was fine right there. "Can you do that for me, Carl? Can you get help?"

Carl nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Good." Michonne waited for him to turn away so she could stop smiling and close her eyes. She groaned low under her breath at a sudden white hot pain in her gut.

"Michonne."

Michonne looked up and saw that Carl was still standing there. "What is it, Carl?" She mustered.

"Do you...forgive me for what happened to Estelle?"

Even though the night was dark and his face was in a mask of tree shadows, she could see the glowing pain in his blue eyes.

 _Did she?_

She combed her brain for answers, but it felt like someone was using a fork to rake the words and thoughts from her head. "The main thing— _my_ sister—Carl, this is—"

Michonne tried effortful-y to get the words out even though her vision was filling with a thick blur.

She tried again. " _The main thing is_ —" Michonne broke off, unintentionally enveloped into a void.

 **01**

"...just found her like that. Her, Sidney and Skye." She picked up the faint sound of Carl's voice as her eyes opened.

Michonne didn't move but saw that she was lying in a bed without sheets, it was a small room and the door was cracked slightly open and through it she saw Carl talking to someone.

"They must have come after us." Carl said, rubbing the temple of his head. "I...I didn't see Karson or Wolfram with them." He added. "It must be why Skye isn't that excited to see me."

"Must be." She didn't need to see Rick to know it was him, and all she heard was the soothing rumble of his voice. "You should go check in on that girl. I'll stay with Michonne."

Carl nodded and walked away.

A tall white woman took his place in front of Rick. It was Sonya. She looked particularly different, with a shorter mane of blonde hair and she was wearing a blue turtle-neck. Something Michonne never really saw her in.

"I see an older friend has taken over our bed now." She said, earning a grin from Rick.

When Rick came into view, Michonne had to admit she almost didn't recognize him. His old shaven face was replaced with dark stubble. Some of his much longer curly hair spilled out from the blue baseball cap he wore; the brand HAZTE in white words above the lid.

"Yeah." He replied simply. "I can take over that tattered couch downstairs for now."

Sonya sighed. "No. I will. This room was yours before I came along."

Rick nodded in agreement. "And you'll be okay with that?"

She nodded, curling her lips downward. "Yeah, I will be fine."

"But isn't that Sidney guy staying down there?"

She eyed Rick for a second. "Yeah. It'll be hard, but I can handle myself, Rick. I'll figure it out."

"You do that." He told her as she walked off, disappearing from Michonne's eyeshot.

When Rick was alone, he looked down at his feet for a second before moving closer to the door.

Seeing him reminded her of the last time they'd seen each other, reminded her of the argument, the goodbyes. But most of all, the _kiss_.

 _He kissed me_ , Michonne remembered.

She quickly flickered her eyes shut before he could notice she had been fully awake the entire time.

 **02**

" _She's_ back?" Judith sort of looked horrified as Carl revealed the news to her. "That's…cool."

Carl rolled his eyes, looking over to a blonde Garrett who sat on the ground beside his sleeping place. Something about that guy screamed unsafety.

"You can try to be a bit sincere." Carl told Judith. "Michonne _saved_ our family."

Judith folded her arms over her chest. "But she hates me."

"None of that matters now." Carl sighed. "I'm tired of having the same conversation, Judith. Be mature about this."

She rolled her eyes this time. "Fine. Okay. _Whatever_."

 **03**

Shuddering awake from a never-ending nightmare about death and family, Michonne was greeted to a dark room. She turned over and saw through the window that it was a black night outside.

Looking down, she realized that her arm had been wrapped in a makeshift arm sling. Before she could feel angry about her arm being broken she realized a presence was beside her.

Rick.

" _Shit_." She whispered, before covering her mouth.

 _Just don't wake him up, Michonne_. She thought, slowly throwing one of her legs over the side of the bed. Just don't—

"Good to see you too, Michonne." Rick's voice was low and subdued behind her.

She cringed. "Uh..."

Michonne pulled herself back under the blankets and fully onto the bed. Michonne turned to face the man she'd been trying to avoid. "I thought you were asleep."

In the dark atmosphere, she could only see his eyes, which appeared grey. "But _I_ didn't. This morning when you tried to pretend _you_ were."

Michonne cringed again, feeling slightly stupid. "And you just let me sit there pretending?"

"By the time I had gotten around to telling you I knew, you'd already fallen asleep." Rick rested his hands over his chest.

Michonne looked around, searching for the words as if they would exist in the air. "Doesn't your brother have like—more rooms?"

Rick's eyes widened as sat up. "No. But if you want, I could sleep down—"

"It's okay." She put her only available hand to his chest. "Don't worry about it."

Michonne slung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched herself. She saw that she was still wearing her torn purple dress. The one Wolfram told her she had looked good in.

 _Wolfram,_ she thought as she covered her face and rubbed at her eyes. _My only friend_.

He was _still_ dead, and he was _never_ coming back. "Ugh."

She hauled herself to her feet, feeling a bit dizzy and walking over to the wall to flicker on the light.

Rick was already off the bed. As she watched him standing there in jeans and a plain gray t-shirt, she realized just how relieved she was to finally see him after such a long time.

"So..." Rick pursed his lips and raked his slim hands through his hat-less head.

Michonne's thoughts and emotions were on a high and all she could think about as she gazed at him was that she didn't want him to die. Not like everyone else in her life did.

She began walking toward him in slow strides.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Michonne shook her head. "Rick, shut up."

Michonne slipped her one good arm around his neck and slowly buried her face in his shoulder.

She shut her eyes. " _I hate you_." She whispered, grinding her teeth together.

Rick laughed silently as he settled his arms around her back. "Then why are you hugging me?"

"Because I missed you." Michonne admitted, her eyes still shut. "You and your _stupid cop face_." She spoke in a muffled voice against him.

"I'll take it." He replied, saying what he'd said nine months ago.

* * *

 **I hope you guys liked this chapter. Sorry it was short. Thanks for the 55 reviews!**


	21. Issue 21, The View From Below

**Issue #21, "The View From Below"**

Judith didn't want to leave the bedroom, not now that the old acquaintances had arrived. She truly did not know how to feel about this. She flipped the pages of her book, not even reading the text, just going through her thoughts.

Garrett slid his hand over Judith's back, raising one of his eyebrows. "Want me to give you a massage?"

Judith jumped up from the bed, shoving him backward and onto the ground. "No, Garrett! I don't want a _freaking_ massage! Leave me _alone_." She went back on her elbows to finish reading her book.

"I'm just being nice, Judith." Garrett shook his head at her. " _Girls_ , man." After speaking, he exited the room.

 _ **00**_

"You want to go after her?" Jonah paced around the cabin while Mike slouched on a couch, tapping the cushion repeatedly with his fingers as if he were waiting for something.

"She took something of mine." Mike said, his eyes determined angrily.

Shaking his head in confusion, Jonah stopped walking. "She took what?"

"My box. The one full of the pills and syringes." Mike's nostrils flared in anger. "She was never one to play by the rules."

"So let me get this straight, you want to go after _drugs?_ We could get seriously injured going out there." Jonah sighed. "Think this over, Mike. I'm heading back down to the light-poles."

When Jonah left, Mike stood from the couch and went to the dining table, there he picked up the kitchen knife. "There's nothing to think over."

 ** _01_**

Using one of Skye's pink rubber bands, Michonne pulled her last pair of dreads into the flexible band and tightened it against her head. She stood in the trailer's tiny bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.

She was scarred.

Physically by the short jagged scar against her cheek that she remembered Angelica's knife slicing through. And mentally by the loss of her friends and family. Every day she saw the faces of her son, her sister, and her friends.

"You look about seventeen." Michonne heard Rick as he squeezed into the room behind her.

Michonne broke the gaze she held with her reflection and looked down at her hands. "What, because of the hairstyle?"

"Exactly." She saw Rick grab the toothbrush packet, pull one from it and sit the pack down.

Michonne sighed, tilting her head in the mirror. "Wolfram did it for me. Said that we'd been living in this world too long for me to keep wearing that same old do."

"Not sure I said this before, but I'm sorry about that guy. He seemed like such a—" Rick broke off, looking down for a second before chuckling softly.

"What? What's so funny?" She asked, looking at him in the mirror.

Rick shook his head. "I was just about to lie. I barely knew him, and when we did speak he was an _asshole."_

Michonne stifled a laugh. "He could be a bitch sometimes."

"I'm sure."

"Well, I'm all done here." She said, turning away from the mirror and facing Rick.

As little as the bathroom was, she really didn't notice that it was small enough to have them chest to chest. Michonne was truly surprised at the close proximity.

"You know," spoke Rick, a lift to his chin. "If I had a dollar for every time you and I got into an awkward position I'd be rich."

Michonne tugged at her bottom lip with her tongue, raising one of her eyebrows at his statement. "And if I had a _penny_ for every time you looked like you wanted to kiss me, I'd be a _billionaire_."

Rick's lips parted. " _You_ —"

She tapped his shoulder. "Have fun brushing, officer." Michonne brushed past him on her way out.

 ** _02_**

Judith opened the trailer door and stepped out after Garrett; the weather was colder these days as usual. "I just wanted to show you a surprise."

"Okay. Where is this surprise?" He asked, his arms out.

Judith grinned, walking around the generator, her hands on Garrett's shoulders. "Come on."

They headed toward the back of the trailer, where you could almost see the world stretch out around you from the hill.

The sky was an intensely dark blue since it was night. She had no way of knowing the time, though.

"Isn't it beautiful?" She said, watching a blonde Garrett. "I've always wanted to live near a view like this."

"Very." Said Garrett before turning to her. "But I hope this isn't the surprise. Anything else you have for me?"

Judith shook her head, knowing his eyes were on her chest, as they always were. "I just wanted you to see something beautiful before..."

"Before what?" He eyed her mysteriously.

She shut her eyes for a second, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Garrett."

"Sorry for wh—?" He didn't get to finish his sentence before a simply quick shove to his shoulder sent him flying over the edge. It was almost slow-motion as Judith heard his violent screams muffle when he reached the bottom, smacking against a thick rock before landing into the ocean.

A single tear trickled down her cheek, thinking that maybe it was the wrong thing to do.

But it was done.

Judith wiped at her face and turned to go back inside, but gasped at the figure that had awaited behind her. " _Please—please_ don't tell." She whispered.

Standing there wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and her arm in a sling, was Michonne. She looked horrified, the sword she held in her only hand dropped to the ground.

"Judith, what in the _holy shit_ did you just _fucking_ do?" She exclaimed in blank shock.

* * *

 **I had so much fun writing this. Tell me what you think. Thanks so much for the reviews! _58! Almost 60!_**


	22. Issue 22, The Idea

**Issue #22, "The Idea"**

"It—it was an accident, Michonne." Judith hesitated, she truly did not expect for Michonne to be there.

Michonne rushed forward and looked over the hill where Garrett had went over. " _You pushed him_!" She screamed, her shocked glare burning daggers into Judith's skull.

"No, no, I was—"

She was cut off when Michonne grabbed her by the collar, lifted her off her feet and shoved her against the side of the trailer. "Who _was_ that kid, Judith?"

"His—his name was Garrett. His sister Ginny lives here with him." Judith mumbled.

"Why'd you do that? Why the _fuck_ did you push him?" Michonne desperately tried not to rage.

Judith opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "He was a pervert. I was afraid he was going to rape me!"

"That the truth?"

Judith didn't answer.

Michonne pressed her harder against the wall. " _Is that the damn truth, Judith?!_ "

"Yes. Yes it is."

Michonne released her from her grip. Her hands balled. "What the hell happened to you, Judith? What happened to that _little girl I saved in the woods_ all those months ago?"

Judith crossed her arms over her chest as Michonne turned away, her hands gripping her head. "I don't know."

"I _have_ to tell someone." Michonne whispered, pacing back and forth. "If I don't I..."

"No! No, please don't. He deserved it—Garrett _deserved_ it!" Judith grabbed onto Michonne's elbow, pleading.

Michonne slowly turned to face the little girl. And without thinking, her hand whipped out, smacking hotly against Judith's pale cheek. "You don't ever kill a human being. _Ever_."

Judith held onto her face. "I was protecting myself."

"You could have told your dad about it. Or—or me, or CARL!" Michonne shook her head. "You...you just took a life, Judith, can't you see that?"

Judith shook her head. "I know what I did, I just can't bring myself to care."

They stood in silence for a long while. Judith waiting on what Michonne would say, and Michonne thinking of something to do.

"Pack a bag. Pack your things." Michonne said.

Judith's eyes widened. "What?"

"I don't trust you around anyone here. Who knows who you could kill? Your brother? Your father?" Michonne shook her head. "Me?"

"So, you're just going to drop me off on the side of the road?"

Michonne shook her head again. "No. I'll bring you back, and when we do get back I'm telling Rick."

* * *

Michonne remembered that she had no belongings. Nothing she owned. She sighed and stuffed her torn dress into a bag along with the arm-protectors that she'd gotten off the suits from the Prison.

"Well, I had fun."

She heard Rick as he entered the small bedroom.

"What?" She rose her eyebrows at him.

He shrugged. "Brushing, I mean."

"Oh." She'd nearly forgotten her own joke, that's how faraway she felt after what she had witnessed. "Heh."

Rick eyed her mysteriously as she zipped up the bag, one of Saundra's bags. "Going somewhere?"

Michonne swung the bag over her shoulder. "Yeah, just a run. I'll be back in a few days."

"Really?" Rick's eyes widened. "Without backup?"

She shrugged nonchalantly though she knew he would never back off. "Just Judith."

"Judith? Hold on. She's not going. That's too dangerous." Rick's voice rose.

Michonne walked over to the door.

"Well, I'll protect her." She turned back to face him once more. "You know I will, Rick."

He looked like he knew she would, which was enough. "Then I guess it'll be no problem if I come along too."

Michonne stiffened. How would that go? How long could she hold her tongue?

"No. Rick, I sa-"

" _Michonne_." His voice was rough and adamant. "I said I was coming along. Besides, I'm the one who has a vehicle."

She furrowed her brows.

"You do?" She suddenly remembered that he'd left the prison with Sonya, Carl and Judith in one. "You _do_."

* * *

 **Sorry for the short chapter. Thanks for the 63 reviews! The Walking Dead is coming back in 9 days! Excited? I am.**


	23. Issue 23, The Field Trip

**Issue #23, "The Field Trip"**

This reminded her a lot of one of those runs she'd go on by herself a few months after Rick had left the prison. The ones she'd never told Wolfram, Skye or Sidney about. She'd just leave the prison, go to some store and stroll around with a cart as if the world were normal again.

Michonne knew those days as the lonely ones. When all of her departed friends were on her mind every second, never giving her a break.

"Thanks for letting us come along, Michonne." Carl thanked from behind Michonne's seat, Skye by his side, he also sat beside Ginny who was partnered with Judith.

If she wasn't mistaken, the blonde Ginny was the kid Garrett's sister. That might explain why Judith looked like she was close to vomiting, pressing herself against the door so that she wouldn't make any physical contact with Ginny.

Michonne remembered before they'd left the trailer that Ginny had been asking around for her brother, but Judith had slipped in and fed her a lie about Garrett sight-seeing in the forest. The lie worked. Ginny didn't know that her brother was currently a roamer beneath the ocean.

"It's no problem." Michonne answered, her eyes on the youngsters. "Just make sure you can handle yourselves. This isn't a field trip."

Carl nodded slowly, his cheeks flushed a deep red. "Noted."

"Okay." Said Ginny, clutching her white hands together.

Judith didn't reply.

Skye hadn't spoken, not once since her father was brutally murdered right in front of her eyes. Her face was a pale brown, her eyes not shining with the youthful spark they were usually lit with. Skye watched the fields they passed through the window.

Michonne turned back into her seat and sat back, reaching with her only available hand for one of the water bottles that was in the cup-holder. As she did so, Rick had also been going for one and her knuckles knocked against his, she could hear a snap in her hand.

"Ah, sorry." Rick slightly chuckled, steering the wheel with one hand.

"I only have one working arm. At least allow me to keep it." She said.

Rick nodded in agreement, forgetting the water he was getting and eyeing the empty road ahead of them.

Michonne grabbed one of the bottles, struggling to open the cap with her fingers. To no avail, she sighed in frustration, shutting her eyes for a second before opening them.

Reluctantly, she looked over to Rick. "Could you—?"

"Sure." He interrupted, knowing what she wanted, taking the bottle from her hand and taking the cap off, he handed it back to her.

Michonne nodded in appreciation and took a swig. "Look." She squinted into the window upon seeing the formation of skyscrapers coming into view.

"Looks like we're almost in the city." Said Rick, looking into the back seat.

Michonne drank up the rest of the water.

"Looks like." she replied.

 **X**

"It's like before everything happened. I'm still looking for something." Mike dropped out of the rusted jeep, an ice pick in his hand.

"Yeah, _drugs_." Muttered Jonah, stepping out of the passenger seat.

"All we have to do is go back to the place she fell from. I'm sure we'll find her somewhere close."

Jonah's eyes went up a tall building, a bank. "And if we don't?"

"I'll just give up." Mike shut the door to their jeep and continued down the street of abandoned cars and litter. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Of course it is. Let's just pick up some supplies and go back to the cabin."

 **X**

"Is there a reason why a clothing store is our first stop?" Michonne stepped down from the car, swinging her sword over her shoulder and shutting the car door.

She looked over to Rick who was pulling out a revolver from inside his belt. "Well, this run isn't that important. I say stopping for some much warmer clothing shouldn't prove to be difficult. Besides, it's been getting real chilly lately."

"You're right about that." Agreed Carl, jumping out of the car after Skye, Judith and Ginny. "I did lose my coat."

 **X**

"I like this one. Don't you?" Carl smiled, lifting the hanger from the rack, a young girl's purple dress flowing from it. Though a quarter of the merchandise had been missing, there was still a lot left. Maybe people didn't really have daughters these days. "Skye?"

He turned back to face her, but she was only leaning against the wall, flipping a pack of cigarettes around in her hand.

This store was vacant and dark, at least this part was. Michonne and Rick had disappeared off somewhere, and Carl had no idea where Ginny was.

"Hey. Where'd you get that?"

Skye looked up, but didn't answer him.

Carl had his own new clothes thrown over his shoulder, and Skye was still wearing her old clothes, they were covered with dark dry blood. He guessed it was Wolfram's.

He went through the clothes on the rack again, picking up a pink coat with white fur, a white shirt with a blue paw print on the front and a pair of jean shorts. "I got you some clothes. There's a dressing room near the woman's section. Here." He walked over to her and tried to hand her the hangers.

"I don't feel like getting dressed." She muttered, this being the first time she had spoken since he'd seen her.

Carl tried to hide his surprise. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not in the mood." Skye sat the pack of smokes down on the cashier desk and approached him.

Carl gulped, watching her.

Skye sighed and drew forward, their lips connected quickly.

" _Hey_."

Skye jumped back, as had Carl, who still carried the clothes in his arm. It was his father who had spoken. Rick was standing at the entryway of the kid's section.

Carl's heart sped up in embarrassment

Rick was in entirely different clothes. A white t-shirt, a blue coat with a furry hood and fitting jeans.

"The world's changed, I get that. But you two are still kids." Rick rose his bushy eyebrows. "Don't forget that."

Skye, in the corner of his eye, rolled her eyes. "We were _just_ _kissing_."

"I'm sure what my Dad means to say is: don't go beyond that point." Carl smirked, his cheeks flushed. "But I'm also certain we wouldn't know much about that stuff anyway. We _are_ just kids after all."

"There you go. We're leaving." Rick told them, nodding. "So hurry up and get dressed. I'll go get Michonne."

 **X**

Sighing, Michonne turned to the side, watching her profile in the mirror. This was the most pleasant run she'd been on, because at least it involved stripping out of her tattered clothes.

Instead of her torn purple dress, Michonne now wore something she was much more comfortable with: A long jean skirt and the only brown sweater that was there, atop that she also wore a lengthy jacket.

It was stupid, but she'd removed her makeshift arm sling because her arm didn't feel broken. It probably never was.

Michonne picked up her sword and pulled the string over her chest.

The faint sound of a quick noise surprised her, Michonne jumped, instantly gripping the handle of her sword. As she prepared to pull it from its holder, something knocked her roughly against her calves and her legs slipped out from under her.

Michonne hit the ground on her back, gasping in surprise as she did so.

" _Shit_." She grunted, preparing to lift herself with her hands when the figures of an older man and three young girls came into view.

The man was holding a handgun, the gun aimed directly at Michonne's face.

He grinned. "Yeah, you're deep in it."

* * *

 **Yaay! Finally, I finished this chapter. I (SPOILER) can't believe that Rick and Michonne are actually a thing now! I sort of stopped writing after they got together because I just thought that my writing wouldn't amount to the real thing. But I'm back. Thank you for the 64 reviews. #Richonne.**


	24. Issue 24, The Grimes Conviction

**Issue #24, "The Grimes Conviction"**

The stupid question to ask would have been, 'who are you people?'. Because it didn't matter who they were due to the fact that it no longer was much of a surprise to Michonne that this world was full of these kinds of people,

"So…you got me." Michonne slid herself up by her back on the mirror into a sitting position. "Go on, take my things. That's what you were intending to do, right?"

The man still had his gun aimed at Michonne and he stood before three girls, a tall Asian girl with blue hair and beside her were two white girls who shared lengthy blonde hair. These girls were young, most likely teenagers, but they were much older than Judith or Carl or Skye was.

Michonne noticed that they were all wearing the same outfit, medical-like purple scrubs. There was a symbol at the top of their shirts. Michonne recognized that for the Regional Juvenile Detention Center brand.

These children were delinquents.

The man shook his head, a smirk playing at his lips. She recognized him. This was Jonah from the cabin. "No. That's not why we're here at all. Roland sent us."

"Roland? You mean Mike? He's here? Why?" The queries all spilled from Michonne as her eyes searched the clothing area wildly.

"He wants his box." Said the blue-haired Asian girl.

"Box?" Michonne curled her eyebrows, puzzled.

"Duh." The taller white child stepped up, looking over to the Asian. "Naomi just told you."

The Asian—Naomi fixed herself in a squatting position in front of Michonne. "You know, the one you used to break out of the cabin window."

"Oh, _that_." Michonne shrugged, twisting her lips. She did, in fact, remember that box. It had had the words DO NOT TOUCH on it.

 _Shit_. This was bad.

"After I fell, I left it there. I had forgotten about it." Michonne admitted truthfully.

Naomi eyed her mysteriously, her pretty gloomy dark eyes squinting curiously.

"It's the truth." Michonne felt her sword on her back, it was painful since the sheath was pressing against her.

 **X**

"It's been a while since I've seen you." Sidney said from behind Sonya.

She was on her knees in front of a rock where her rifle sat and she stared through the scope at the world below the hill the trailer was parked on.

"It has." She bit her lip at the sight of a short rotting walker who's glasses had sunk into its skin. She hid her disgust as she pulled the trigger. The weapon jerking back in response, almost getting her in the cheek. The walker dropped to the ground, finally dead—or dead-er.

"So, um…we haven't had a chance to talk."

Sonya sighed, removing her hands from the gun and turning to face Sidney. "There's nothing to talk about."

Sidney nodded, his eyebrows curled. "Yeah—I think there is. I was a total and complete dick to you at the prison and I just want to say I'm s—"

"You had just lost your brother. I can understand, Sid." Sonya shifted all her weight onto her right foot as she prepared herself for what was to come. "No need for you to apologize."

"Okay." Sidney reached out and grabbed her hands, her scarred hands. "I want you to know that I still care about you."

Sonya jerked back, holding her hands to her chest and seeing the disappointed look on his face, folded: "I'm sorry, it's…"

"No. I-it's fine. You need time." He nodded, his dark curls bouncing on his cheeks. Sidney turned away toward the trailer, slowly walking.

But Sonya knew this was wrong, she couldn't bite her tongue anymore.

"I don't need time, Sid." She admitted, reaching up and touching the lid of the cap she wore over her own blonde curls—Rick's cap.

He turned back to face her, he looked as confused as she was sure he would be. "What do you mean?"

She released a long breath. "I mean, during those months I was here and you weren't, when I was losing sleep at night and clutching my pillow…it wasn't because of you"—Sonya sighed at her confusing wording—"It was for someone else."

She could have sworn she saw his face darken as he took in everything she said. "Someone else?" In that moment, Sonya could almost see the cogs turning in his head. "Someone else as in…"

"Yeah." Sonya pulled the cap farther on her head. " _Rick_."

 **X**

"Yeah. That's right. I'm here too." Michonne turned at the sound of her former lover's voice.

Mike.

He entered the room, tall, dark-skinned and burly, but not alone. He held a knife to the throat of Rick, who had his arms up. "Quite a surprise really."

"What's a surprise? The fact that you're not cowering at the end of my blade yet?" She snapped back, struggling herself into a more controlled sitting position.

Mike laughed as the man who'd killed Wolfram—Jonah, entered the room again, shoving Skye, Carl, and Ginny inside. "Go sit next to Michonne." He told them.

Mike walked Rick over to Michonne and shoved him beside the mirror. Rick dropped down beside Michonne, the kids obeying and sitting beside him.

"Who are these people?" He whispered to her.

Michonne sighed. "They're the ones who killed Wolfram."

Rick nodded slowly as if that was all he needed to know.

His eyes went over to his son, Skye and Ginny, and confusion lit up in his eyes, but before he could even ask, Skye beat him to it:

"Where's Judith?" She queried loudly, her eyes searching around.

"I don't know." Michonne answered, trying to think of a way they'd get out of this.

Naomi of the three girls, went over to Mike, who was also pulling a gun out of his belt—she wasn't sure what model it was from her distance.

"Boss, there were six of them when they came in here. There's only five now." She told him lowly, but Michonne heard her.

Mike nodded. "You take Lucie and Kris and Jonah with you and go find this other person."

Naomi nodded, turning to the two white girls and ushering them toward the door of the females clothing area, they disappeared through them. Jonah followed after.

 _Judith,_ Michonne thought _, I hope you've learned to use your viciousness as equally when it's needed, otherwise..._

 ** _X_**

 _What the hell happened to you, Judith? What happened to that little girl I saved in the woods all those months ago?_

Judith balled her fists. "I _don't know_." She roughly shoved the contents of the baby section from the shelf and leaned against it. "I wish I knew."

The memories of herself playing with her Barbie dolls or kidding around with her best friends went through her head. Those were the days things actually felt normal. They didn't now.

"I…" Her eyes flooded with unintentional tears and they immediately dripped from her eyes and onto the carpeted area. "I _wish_ I knew."

She jumped at the sound of voices.

 _"_ _I heard some noise up here. Maybe this is where he might be."_ The muffled voice belonged to a girl and it got nearer but Judith could not see a soul in the infant section.

Judith hurried to hide herself behind a full clothing rack. As soon as she did so, she pulled back one of the clothes hanging up on the rack and stared through. Entering the room were three girls and a man. Of the girls were two tall ones and one shorter than the others.

Judith held her breath as they observed the fallen baby products. She noticed that none of them carried any weapon, except the man.

"Someone was definitely up here." said the man

The blue-haired girl picked up a pink teddy bear. "I don't see anyone."

"Look anyway." The man ordered. "Mike's going to get pissed if we don't at least do something. I'm going to go sit in the car." The man went to the door and left.

Who were these people?

Judith watched them as they fanned out and went into different aisles of the area, disappearing completely from her view.

She released a breath.

Relief was yanked from her as a hand closed tightly on her shoe and she was pulled roughly from her hiding space. Judith screamed, her eyes shutting until her body came to a stop.

When she opened her lids, the three girls were standing above her.

The blue-haired laughed out loud. "Are you stupid? We saw your shoe sticking out from behind that rack the second we came in here."

Judith hawked and spat into the girl's face. " _Fuck you!"_

The blue-haired girl used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the saliva, a disgusted expression on her face. " _That was very_ disrespectful, little girl." The girl looked over to the others, smirking. "You think Roland would mind if we…?"

The shortest one shrugged nonchalantly. "He always says never to let people treat us like that. I guess that makes it okay."

Judith knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

" _This_." The blue-haired drew her foot back before it slammed against the side of Judith's head.

The blow was so impactful, Judith felt blood spilling out from her ear, and realized with a jolt that she could no longer hear from it.

She winced, a sob rising from her throat. Her face curled back into one of a cry, reaching up to touch the bleeding side of her head.

"Oh god _,"_ she felt her wet tears falling from her eyes and sliding down the side of her cheeks. " _I can't—I can't hear, I'm bleeding—"_

The girl who'd kicked her, brought her foot back one more time, and repeating Judith's earlier phrase with a small devious laugh, said: _"Fuck you!"_

 _Whack!_

 ** _X_**

"Michonne."

It was Mike, he was walking toward her, his knife was tucked into his belt but his gun was still out.

"What do you want, Mike Roland?"

He crouched in front of her, a smile on his face. "I always hated the fact that I was raising your son from another man." He admitted to her, his free hand digging into his back pocket. "But the more time I spent with Andre, the more I couldn't help loving that boy."

When his hand left his pocket, she saw that he was holding a photograph, it was wrinkly from being balled up, but she could see the youthful dark-skinned face of her two-year-old son.

Beside her, Rick was wide-eyed. She couldn't blame him, he was learning now that Mike was the boyfriend she'd met after he decided not to arrest her. He was learning that her son was _dead_ —which should have already been obvious.

Michonne's words got caught in her throat, her eyes filling. She didn't have anything smart to snap back with and she could feel a pain and longing in her heart. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Look at him, Michonne." Mike pushed the photo into her face. "Look at your son. Look at the son you left for dead."

The threatening tears spilled freely from her eyes, her bottom lip quivering. "I didn't leave him. He was already dead."

"Not when you left, no he wasn't." She couldn't tell whether he was sad or not because her vision was blurry with her own sadness. "When Andre screamed, it was because he was watching me get my leg gnawed at— _not_ because he was dying, Michonne."

Michonne's eyes instantly widened, causing all of the collected tears to pour down her face. "What?"

"Andre was alive when you were running away and I had to watch, bleeding out, as that dead biter stumbled over to him and grabbed him." Mike looked as if he was there, back at that time. "He died _slow_. Andre felt _everything_."

" _Stop!"_

Michonne screamed, an air of anger and sadness around her. She smashed her face against Mike's, feeling like she'd just broke her entire face, and fell on top of him. His gun slid across the floor from them.

There, she straddled him, drawing back her fist but Mike had been quicker, jabbing his elbow into her jaw.

She made a sound of pain, slumped back and fell onto the ground, now her vision was blurry from being nearly knocked out.

"Michonne!" She heard Rick calling, and through her unclear eyes, saw him getting to his feet and throwing himself at Mike.

They crashed into an empty clothing rack. Michonne watched them throw punches, kicks and each other. That's when Mike pulled something from his belt, the light from the window sparked off of it—a knife.

"Rick!" Her voice was weak and gravelly as she pushed herself up. "Rick! Watch out!"

Rick turned toward her, then back to Mike, then she heard the sound of a sickening crunch.

Had he…had Rick gotten Mike?

Michonne watched the dark blood squirting and pooling at Rick's feet and her dizziness went away. That's when she saw that the knife was protruding from the shoulder of Rick's white shirt.

"DAD!" She heard Carl from behind.

"Rick!" Michonne looked around wildly, finally her eyes landed on the gun Mike had dropped and she rushed forward, bringing her hand down, the gun connected with Mike's head and he fell to the ground.

Rick gasped in pain as Michonne and Carl approached him with worried expression. They dropped to their knees in front of him.

"Rick, are you okay?" She asked frantically, pulling her sword and coat off.

"Well, it-it hurts really bad." Rick winced, his face pale and sweaty.

"You just got _stabbed_." She began to tear at her coat. In result, an almost perfect fat strip came away. "Of course it hurts."

"You're going to be okay, Dad." Carl said, being accompanied by Skye and Ginny, who hadn't moved since before the fight broke out.

"You'll be fine." Skye told Rick.

Rick held onto his shoulder, the knife still half-in half-out, blood streamed through his fingers, inside his fingernails, and down his knuckles.

Michonne yanked the knife out—Rick gasped, yelping in pain—and used her coat to hold down on the wound.

"We need to get out of here. Find Judith and go back to the trailer."

" _Judith_." Rick said in realization, stumbling to his feet. "Let's go."

 **X**

"You need to keep that on there." Michonne told Rick as they entered the hall that lead down to the other rooms, somewhere in this building had to be where Judith was. "You'll bleed out if you don't."

A part of her was dreading seeing Judith because all she could think about when she looked at that little girl was the young boy she'd shoved from the cliff.

"I got it." Rick winced, his hand clutching the coat on his shoulder tightly. "We should go back and kill him."

Michonne looked over to him. "What?"

"That Mike guy. He'll kill us if we don't kill him first." They reached the end of the corridor and pulled the glass door open, there they entered the last part of the store they hadn't been in.

It was lit dimly, filled with racks and clothing and toys.

Nodding, Michonne reached up and brushed his wet curls behind his ear. "We will. Just not now, he won't be awake for a while."

"I—"

"Wait guys." Carl said suddenly, stopping them from entering the section where the toys were.

Michonne and Rick stopped and looked over to Carl who stood beside them, the knife that had stabbed Rick was still in his hand.

"What is it?" Michonne curved one of her eyebrows upward.

"I just…I thought I heard something. I—wait, there it is again." His squinted into the darkness ahead of them.

"Carl," said Rick, skeptical. "There's nothing to—"

Michonne made a shushing sound as she came into realization of what Carl was talking about. It was a low sound, almost like a cry, but a wheeze, or a low rumble and it was coming straight to them, only slowly.

 _Unnghh._

Michonne watched as a figure blundered at a slow pace through the shadows. The figure was small, like a child and it trudged slowly into the light of the area.

"It's a walker." Michonne whispered.

But instead of the typical decomposed countenance, the child still appeared alive-like. With the skin almost a faint blue and the hair was incredibly straight, dark, and long.

When one of the child's bangs brushed to the side, it revealed a face. But the face so raw and bloody and broken that Michonne couldn't make out features, especially in the darkness.

When the child continued to make low innocent but deadly growls, it was then that Michonne noticed that it was female, and she wore a baggy pink camisole, cargo shorts, equal with small worn blue sneakers.

" _Blue sneakers_." Michonne whispered, the only sounds audible were the low grating growls and the intensely rapid beat of her own heart.

 _She's wearing blue sneakers and a pink camisole._

But no, the only person Michonne remembered wearing that combination was—

"It's…" whispered Carl, round steely blue eyes completely pervaded with realization. The void of his tone alone being enough to snap a heart in two. "It's _Judith_."

* * *

 **Tell me, are you sad or relieved? The 65 reviews are seriously and whole-hearteadly appreciated - Rue.**


	25. Issue 25, The Little Girl

**Issue #25, "The Little Girl"**

 _Unnngh._

 _Gah._

It was almost like watching the real Judith walking toward her. With lanky arms, pale skin and her eyes…they looked glazed over with a faint yellow color, other than her usual sparkly blue eyes.

Maybe it was the sounds she made, or the smell, or just the way Judith looked, that made Michonne crouch over—tears in her eyes—and vomit.

It was Mike's girls and Jonah, they were the ones who came after her. They must have done something to her. It was _them._

But _where_ were they _?_

Michonne picked herself up, instantly noticing the fact that Rick hadn't said anything, hadn't even moved. He was always so strong, and she didn't think she'd ever seen him break down.

She turned and saw that he still stood where he had been before. His skin was stark white, sweat dripped from his hair. Michonne watched his eyes, they had always had an incredible blue hue, but looking into them now, they were empty and cold.

But it was when she saw that his lips had grown an unhealthy blue color her heart had begun to speed up.

"Rick." She called, slowly heading in his direction. "Rick, look at me."

The second she had got to him she brought her hands up to his neck to twisted his head to look down at her, his eyes slowly rolled up to whites and he unconsciously slid to the ground in a dead faint.

Michonne went with him, crumbling to her knees, Rick in her arms.

"Hey," Michonne struggled to keep herself from losing it, blinking away her tears. She smacked him hotly against the face but he didn't respond, didn't even twitch. "Hey, wake up!"

Beneath her fingers that clutched his shirt, she still felt his thumping heartbeat. She sighed of relief.

Michonne's eyes went to Carl who was just standing there, not crying, Skye beside him. Carl had the same expression Rick had _just_ had and he held the knife but he wasn't using it.

But she couldn't blame him, because _who could_ after seeing something like this?

Still, Judith was getting _closer._

"Carl?" Skye was looking at him, she appeared worried. "Carl, you have to put her down."

Judith's blue sneakers scrubbed against the floor with every stride she took, unaware of anything around her except for the humans that stood ahead of her.

 _Gah._

"C-Carl, you need to listen to Skye. Use the knife." Michonne frantically looked from Carl to Rick, the two would _have_ to find some way to get through this. They _had_ to. "Use the knife, Carl!"

"Fine. Give that to me." Skye muttered, snatching it from Carl. "If you won't, I will."

Skye sped forward and shoved Judith off her feet and onto her back. Holding her chest down with her right arm, Skye straddled the young walker.

In the moment, Skye's hand began to quiver as she drew her arm back high in the air, her brown knuckles clenching the knife so tightly. A tear plopped from her eye and onto Judith's chest.

" _Little girl_ ," Skye whispered, remembering the few times they'd called each other that term while her bottom lip shook uncontrollably.

Judith, the walker, squirmed and growled to get at her.

Skye released a breath. " _I'm sorry_."

Skye sent the knife down, the atmosphere as silent and brutal as it felt that day Estelle had died in Michonne's arms.

The blade broke through the flesh and lodged itself messily inside Judith's forehead, fluid burst from all sides, sprinkling blood on Skye's face.

Judith stopped struggling, stopped fighting, her glazed eyes open, dead and _gone_.

For a moment everyone was silent, Skye was looking down at Judith, her face wet with recent tears that mixed with the blood.

Michonne stared in sorrowful shock.

" _No."_ The whispered cry had come from Carl, who sprinted toward Skye and Judith, dropping onto his knees and throwing himself at Judith, snaking his arms around her back and sobbing into her chest.

"Uh, the walkers are gathering outside, we have to leave before we're surrounded—or those guys try and come after us." It was Ginny.

Michonne hadn't even noticed she had still been there. Ginny stared through one of the glass windows that faced the outside.

"She's right." Michonne said in a low voice, her eyes falling to an unconscious Rick. "And Rick needs to get his wound cleaned and bandaged up."

 **X**

"Stay here with them." Michonne strapped the seatbelt around Rick—whose consciousness still hadn't come back—and shut the backseat door. She then rounded the car and leaned on the window frame, staring through at Skye, she sat in the passenger's seat. "Heard me?"

Michonne's eyes went to Ginny, she sat the backseat in between Rick and a sleeping Carl, dry tears apparent on his face.

"Yeah." Skye nodded.

"Skye, Ginny, I know you two like Carl." She watched both the girls as the look of nervousness went over there faces. "But you can't let that get in the way, you have to be strong for him. That's the only way he'll get through this." Michonne told them, her voice deep and intense.

"He was strong for me," began Skye in a weak voice. "After he learned about my—my Dad. He never stopped trying to comfort me."

Michonne nodded, tapping Skye's hand. "I know. He's like that."

"We'll be strong," Ginny brushed one of her blonde locks behind her ear, Skye nodded with her. "For him."

Michonne stepped back from the car. "I'll be back, I just need to get something done."

"You mean _kill Mike_?" Ginny asked from the back.

Michonne muttered a _yes_ and headed back over to the door that lead back into the clothing store. For a moment she stood there wondering whether she should tell Ginny what happened to Garrett.

 _I should_ , Michonne thought, _but not now._

With that, she entered the building.

 **X**

 _Shit._

 _Shit._

 _Shit._

 _Shit._

The spot where she remembered knocking Mike unconscious at was now vacant of any soul and she was sure that the rest of his gang had gotten out before they could get to them.

 _"_ _He's not here?!"_ Michonne slammed her hands into the mirror ahead of her, the glass crushing beneath her knuckles but not leaving behind a cut.

 _I should have listened to Rick_ , Michonne pondered.

Her eyes went around the room one more time before they landed on a crumbled piece of paper. She knelt and picked it up—Andre's photo.

Looking at his innocently youthful face she was reminded that now Rick would have to endure the pain, the pain of losing a child—and Carl the pain of losing his sister.

 _Shit._

* * *

 **Hope you're not too annoyed at the nonstop recent uploads. Thanks for 68 reviews.**

 **Can't believe I am still writing this, my usual thing would have been to ditch a story, but this story is a bit addicting. Love you guys.**

 **\- Rue.**


	26. Issue 26, The Seven Day Silence

**Issue #26, "The Seven Day Silence"**

Her hands threaded tightly but carefully through his head, his thickly wet hair sliding through her them as she finished entwining the last braid. "There."

Michonne released her hands from Carl's hair and stretched them, the pain releasing itself from her knuckles and fingers.

She waited him to get up from the ground and move, but he still sat there. He sat on the ground in between her legs, his back turned to her, knees pulled up and leaned his hand to the side on her jeaned knee.

"Thanks for the do." He said faintly. "May I ask why, again?"

Michonne patted his head. "Because—"

"Because you can't have long luscious locks in the apocalypse," interjected Skye, sitting in the corner of the room on the window seat, she shut the comic book she had just been reading. "And since you refuse to cut yours…this is our last resort."

"Walkers can pull and tear this right out of your head. That's why I cut mine." Michonne reached up and stroked her dreadlocks. "But it keeps growing back too quickly, so I wear them up in these ponytails. As ridiculous as they look."

"They look nice." Said Carl, almost in a whisper.

The light from the sun outside lit Skye's brown eyes as she walked over to the two.

"Thanks." Michonne looked down at Carl again, he was still leaning against her leg.

 _Why?_ Thought Michonne, noticeable confusion playing out on her features. _All I've done is be clingy. He should hate me. After all, I was the one who sent us out on that stupid run last week—the run that had gotten his older sister beaten to death._

"Carl."

Michonne gazed upward at Skye, who had spoken abruptly.

She reached down for Carl's hand. "Saundra's making jelly sandwiches—there's no peanut butter, but I know how much you love jelly. Want some?"

"Sure." Carl accepted her hand, hauled himself into a standing position and headed outside the room with Skye.

Once they left, Michonne released a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. The tension had been incredibly tight for her. Having to choose her words carefully and try not to be too forward.

 **X**

"This is close to the place Mike's cabin was." Michonne crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the thickest tree in the forest. "You shouldn't be out here, it isn't safe."

An axe—that's what Rick brandished as he savagely tore through the skull of a walker, a fixated and angry aura coming from him.

He ignored her, and though the walker was dead, he still chopped away.

"I wish you would talk to me, Rick. It's been _seven_ whole days."

Rick bit hard on his bottom lip, dragging his arm back with the axe. But Michonne was quick, hastening over to him and closing her hands on the axe's handle. "Give it to me."

" _Come on."_ He grunted, his skin moist with perspiration. "Let go of it."

She tried to pull it to herself though he had a grip of steel. "No. Give the fucking axe to me, Rick."

The two just didn't listen to each other, at least until Rick finally gave the axe a hard haul and the axe was torn from her hand.

Michonne stumbled black, twisting her ankle slightly, and she gasped in surprise and pain. "Are you kidding me?"

Rick brought the axe down on the walker's shoulder, it ripped through the clothing, then skin, discolored blood pooling at Rick's feet.

"Do you hate me?" Her anger was just building up with things she was waiting to say. "I know you do. I know you blame me for Judith. I know you think it was my f—"

"What?" She hadn't seen Rick furiously let go of the axe and seize her shoulder, propelling her backward into that thick tree she had been resting on before. "What did you say?"

Michonne didn't show her surprise as Rick neared her, inches away from her, so close yet so far. His fingers were digging into her shoulder but she was too in the moment to feel it.

"You heard me." Michonne breathed shakily. "I was the one who brought you all along with me on that run. I was the one—" She broke off when Rick released his hold on her shoulder as if he hadn't been fully aware he'd been doing it.

Rick's wide blue eyes raked over her slowly as he closed the space between them, ducking his head to her size and bringing his face to the side of hers.

"That's…" he whispered into her ear, a faint sadness in the way he spoke. "That's _not_ what I think, Michonne."

Michonne shivered, though the weather was pretty warm. "Then what _do_ you think? Tell me."

To her shock, Rick chuckled and backed away from her, he leaned down to grip the axe he had dropped. "I think I want to kill your boyfriend. Your—what's his name—Mike? Yeah, _him_. I want to find him and I want to get rid of him."

Michonne folded her arms over herself again, stroking her own elbow. "It's not going to help you, Rick, so just _forget_ about it.

"I know you need your space to mourn your daughter, I know you do and we'll _give_ you that. But after that…you need to come back to your family. To the people that care about you. Not to revenge."

"Well, that's not going to happen."

Taken aback, Michonne thought that maybe she'd worded it wrong. She wanted him to know the truth, to know that she—

"Leave him alone, Michonne."

Michonne jumped, whirling around. It had only been a tall blonde woman—Sonya. "What?"

Michonne noticed that Sonya wore the same cap she had seen Rick wearing when she had first awoken at the trailer. Sonya shook her head. "You should go inside."

"Hold on—"

" _Go_."

 _Maybe I do need to go_ , thought Michonne, _before I say something that'll change everything_.

Michonne held her hands up in surrender. "Fine." She brushed past Sonya angrily.

 **X**

Skye poured the last of the cold milk into her cup and chugged it down. "Mmm. It's good. But it sucks knowing this is probably the last time I'll ever taste anything close to this ever again."

She looked across the table at Ginny, who was eyeing Carl.

"It does." Replied Ginny, not looking up. "I like your hair, Carl."

He looked up from his sandwich, swiping a small flicker of jelly from his mouth. "Michonne did it." His hair had been pulled back into two tight braids that hung just below his jawline.

"Michonne does everything." Skye laughed.

Carl didn't laugh back, he sat his sandwich down onto the plate and stood from his seat.

"Where are you going?" asked Ginny.

He shrugged. "Just going for some rest."

"Sleep well, artist." Skye grinned at him, earning the quick gleam of a smile from him as he headed off.

Her own smile died on her lips as soon as he was out of sight. "Man, I hate trying to fake my happy in front of him when I just want to cry."

Ginny curled her lip. "Why would you cry?"

"Judith may have been the biggest bitch I've ever met," Skye said, sighing at her own words. "But she was still a little girl."

When Skye looked up she saw that Ginny had paled.

"She was a _murderer_ —a _liar_ , a brat and you're right, a _bitch_. There would be no need or reason to cry over her." Ginny's emotion drained from her face as the words poured from her. "Or did you forget what she did to my brother?"

"I didn't." Skye said faintly, watching Ginny stand from her seat.

"Good." Ginny sighed, moving toward the door of the trailer's kitchen, but turning back to Skye for a quick moment. " _Don't_ cry about her. _Ever_."

* * *

 **69\. Thank You.**


	27. Issue 27, The Only Assistance

**Issue #27, "The Only Assistance"**

She flipped the page, it was thick from the amount of photos that had been taped to it. Her eyes went to the wide photo that made the whole page. It was Rick and Jeffrey, their arms thrown over each other and blue eyes full of excitement.

"This is exactly what I want," murmured Michonne, shutting the photo album and turning to face Jeffrey and Saundra. "You would be the perfect person for this…so would I, but he'll actually talk to _you_."

Michonne sat the book on the kitchen table and leaned back in her chair. Jeffrey was beside Saundra across from her, a half-eaten can of peaches were sitting in front of them on the table.

"Me?" Jeffrey knitted his bushy eyebrows together.

"Yeah, you, Jeffrey." Michonne shrugged and grabbed the can of peaches.

Saundra, his girlfriend, grinned for a quick second. " _Yeah-_ no. That's not happening."

A peach half-in, half-out of her mouth, Michonne blinked confusedly at the two. "Well, why not? Last time I checked, your boyfriend _is_ Rick's brother."

Saundra opened her mouth to speak, but got a quick look from Jeffrey and shut her lips.

Michonne rose her eyebrows.

Jeffrey sighed, running his hands through his thick, dark mane and turning back to Michonne. "Don't worry about that." He eyed her before asking, "what did you mean when you said would be the perfect person for this too?"

"Just that…it shouldn't be too strenuous for one to therapize another who's lost a child," Michonne quickly swallowed the peach, and shrugged. "Especially if you've lost one too."

"Damn." Saundra looked down in her lap before up at Michonne. "I'm sorry."

"But that does me no good with him." Michonne admitted, avoiding Saundra's apology. "He doesn't want to listen to me. It's like I'm only talking to myself when I try and tell him I _understand."_

"Then just leave him alone," Jeffrey said, at last. "He'll get through this on his own."

Michonne furrowed her brows. "He wants to _kill_ Mike and he's _never_ killed before." _Neither have I,_ she thought _. "_ I won't let that be the way he gets through this."

No one said anything.

"Fine. I'll just figure this out on my own. Thanks for the fruit." Michonne lifted herself from her seat, stretching her back from its aches. She remembered the last time before this that she had eaten fruit, back at Viverly—back when Estelle was still alive. "It was delicious."

 **X**

Carl stepped past a log, bloody grass and walker guts to get to the figure that sat on the forest ground, their back to a tree. His father.

Rick was wearing the same shirt he had been wearing the previous day, a white one covered in filthy walker fluid. Though Carl hadn't really gotten a good look at his father in the recent days, it was refreshing to finally see him not tearing through the head of a walker and instead, resting.

"Here." Carl dropped onto the ground beside him and held out the last piece of his granola bar.

Rick shook his head, his dark wet hair clinging to his forehead. "You can keep it."

Carl saw that he still held the axe in his hand and sighed, stuffing the granola in his own mouth. "Tired, or is it just that you've already cleared out the walkers and there's none left to kill?"

"Both." Rick admitted, leaning his head back against the tree. "Are you—?"

"I'm okay, Dad." Carl reached up at his head, noticing the loss of hair that used to brush against his neck, and remembered that his hair had been braided. "Michonne's been a real help with me. Clingy, but helpful."

The words reminded him of that day he'd awoke from his coma and was met with a tearful Judith.

 _"Who's Michonne?"_ Carl had asked her.

 _"I'll tell you all about her,_ " Judith replied. " _She's kind of the hero that saved you."_

"She's like that," spoke Rick after a moment of silence and crickets, his voice appreciative.

Carl got to his feet, savoring the fact that the sky above him had darkened slightly and the world around him was peaceful. "I'm going to go take a nap." He was silent. "Dad?"

Rick looked over and up at his son. "What is it?"

"She's trying to help you," Carl said, leaving it to his father to know who he was talking about. "So just let her."

With that, he stepped back into the bloody grass and pass the log that lead back to the trailer.

 **X**

It was pitch dark outside, Michonne saw that through the window of her room; well, Rick's room, but he wasn't occupying it much these days. She shut the blinds and finished pulling her hair from inside the neckline of her thin purple tank top, she had gotten it from Saundra.

She knew that the entire trailer was in bed by now, so when she heard a muffled thump coming from outside the door of the room, she was on alert.

Michonne grabbed her sword that had been sitting against the bed and shut off the lamp in the room. She pulled the knob open, entering the small hall.

It was dark, only lit by the bathroom light, which she remembered flicking off after her quick shower.

She slowly approached the cracked-open door, using her shoulder to push it open as she readied to whip out her sword.

The door opened, and she prepared to yank the weapon, but it had only been—

"Rick?"

Michonne was truly shocked and surprised. He was standing in front of the sink in a fresh khaki shirt and black jeans. His skin and hair were soaked thoroughly, but not with sweat, with water.

"You're washing up now?" The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop herself.

Rick used his hand to brush his curls from his forehead. "It—"

"No. Don't answer that." Michonne scrunched her eyes, clutching her sword in her left hand. "It was just a stupid attempt at a joke. I'll leave you alone." She nodded slowly, turning away in the direction of her room, not expecting to feel Rick's fingers brushing against her hand.

"Wait."

She turned quickly, looking down and seeing that Rick was holding her hand.

Michonne then watched his facial expression, it wasn't as cold and impassive as it had been the past week. Instead, he looked _ready,_ ready to talk to her, and his sensitive blue eyes were finally looking at her the way she had been waiting for them to.

"Rick, are you okay?"

He looked to the side, his mouth opening to form words. "Carl told me—"

There was a scream, but it was faint to Michonne's ears and she didn't react. She was looking at Rick, waiting for him to tell her what he was struggling to.

But Rick had noticed the scream and looked around.

The hallway suddenly warmed up with light and Sonya was entering, wearing a nightgown and holding a lit candle in her hand.

"Hey, I—" She broke off, her eyes dropped to the hands of Michonne and Rick, they were interlocked.

Sonya gulped. "Did you hear that? It sounded like someone was screaming."

"Yeah." Michonne pulled her hand free of Rick's. "Sounded like Saundra."

 **X**

"Why do you want to go after them?" The thick-voiced, blue-eyed, brown-haired white woman who sat across from him leaned back in the chair.

She wore a heavy black coat, and one of her sleeves seemed to be much thinner than the other—he also noticed that she never seemed to use her left hand.

"I could ask you the same thing." Mike said, drumming his hands against the cabin's table.

The woman sighed. "Let's just say I blame Michonne for the fact that my life is now a gloomy dismal of shit."

"I see." Mike rose one of his eyebrows. "Same here."

She nodded, standing from her seat and tapping the rifle that was strapped across her chest. "Now, my people are outside right now. If you can treat us, feed us, let us stay here—we'll wipe her out along with her group."

Mike watched her. "Even if her group consists of children too?"

"Even if." She stood firmly to her decision. "So, do we have a deal?"

He stood with her. "Yeah, we do."

The woman grinned softly and moved toward the door, her boots thickly striking the cabin's wooden floors beneath them. Her hand then closed on the knob and she pulled it open.

"Wait," Mike turned to face her. "You never told me your name."

"But it's not that important." She said.

Mike shrugged. "That's true, but I'm going to need to call you _something_ if we're going to go through with this plan together."

"True. But there's something else I've been meaning to show you." She sighed, reaching down and unzipping her coat, it slipped down her body easily.

Mike's eyes widened at her, as she wore a tight brown tank-top and jeans, but that was not what was attracting his attention. It was her left arm, it was gone, all left was merely a stump lined with messy sutures.

"Hamrick," she curled her lips. " _Maxine_ Hamrick." 

* * *

**Well, some of you guys were thinking I had just let her go from the story. Ha. No.**

 **Thank you for the 70 reviews, I am soo grateful.**


	28. Issue 28, The Mourners

**Issue #28,** ** _"_** **The Mourners** ** _"_**

Mike chuckled softly, only half-confused as he gazed down upon the compact clutter of people that stood together below him.

"These are _all_ your people?" He asked, quirking one thick eyebrows as the sun heated his skin. "This is all?"

Maxine stepped down the wooden staircase of the cabin, meeting her small group in the rocky pathway. Again, she tapped her hand against her rifle—though the thought of how she'd ever use it without two arms puzzled him.

"What did you expect? An army or something?" Maxine used her only hand to tap the head of a young boy, her fingers moving through the mop of blonde locks that hung from his head. She sighed. "There were a lot more, but I lost a lot of people on the way. This here, is Leroy."

The child—Leroy—nodded slowly. "Hi."

Maxine's eyes went to a woman much shorter than her, one whose hair was cropped and black. "This is his mother Jennie. They're new, but…they have the same problem we do."

"Let me guess, my former fiancée did something to them? Stirred up a bit of trouble?"

Jennie shook her head. "Not directly Michonne, but her sister, Estelle. That girl _murdered_ my husband with a _bone_." She looked down at her son. "And Leroy was held for a short time at their prison a while ago. They are _not_ good people."

Mike released a breath. "I think everyone here is pretty clear on that, right, Jonah, Naomi, Kris and Lucie?"

The four in question sat a few feet away at a wooden bench, the bench was covered with much desired items. Rifles, ammo, revolvers, handguns and blades. They'd gotten the new good stuff from Michonne's van, the one they'd taken from her.

Naomi, the blue-haired, nodded as she smacked a magazine into its place of her rifle. "Yep. Thankfully, we were successful in taking one out, she was a little _smart-mouthed_ bitch too. I had to kick her just to get her to shut up.

"Even then, she wouldn't stop screaming about how it hurt _oh, so bad_. So finally, I snagged the shoe strings from her sneakers and wrapped them around her throat _so tight_ that she stopped fighting before she even died—that part came a few minutes later."

Kris, one of the two shorter ones, grinned. "Well, don't take _all_ the credit, Naomi. I was the one who _gave_ you the shoe strings."

Lucie shook her head at the both of them as Naomi laughed. "Okay, I think I win. I'm the one who heard her last words."

Mike squinted at her curiously. "And those were?"

"I think she said—" Began Lucie, only to be interrupted.

"Wait." The kid Leroy spoke up and all eyes went his way. "You killed a _little girl_ from Michonne's group?"

Naomi nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Was her name Judith?" He asked, his eyes were innocently expectant—almost a bit fearful.

"Not sure." Naomi shrugged, gazing through the scope on her gun. "But she _was_ a pretty little Caucasian girl, with dark hair and a mean pair of blue eyes."

"Yeah, I-I think that's her." Leroy's eyes went to his feet. "That's _Judith_."

Was he afraid? Relieved? No one could truly be sure.

"Perk up, kid." Mike lifted his own chin. "These people aren't worth your sympathy—that girl being a child didn't make her any different than anyone else."

Leroy didn't respond.

"Alright." Maxine sighed. "The last of my group here are Gia, Selena, Tracy, Lynette, and Esther." The remaining women who stood together in ragged clothing and experienced looks nodded to Mike.

"Good." Mike stepped down the stairs and approached the kid. "Now Leroy, let's teach you about guns."

"Wait." Leroy backed away, a distant look on his face. "I have to take a leak."

Mike laughed. "Well, nature calls. Just go around back."

Leroy smiled faintly and headed toward the cabin.

 **X**

"He's—he's _dead_." Saundra appeared horrified, a single tear had escaped her right eye. She was standing in the kitchen beside Jeffrey in her pajamas, the small form of a dog lay at her feet, lifeless and gray—a brownish-red fluid pooling beneath its fur.

"This was your dog?" Michonne curved her eyebrows in confusion, looking back at Sonya and Rick.

Sonya sighed, shaking her head. "That's _Kip_. He was bitten and he turned—I guess someone finally did him in."

So, animals _can_ turn.

Michonne squinted at the dead animal on the ground, trying to find some part of her that cared about this dog—and found she couldn't. All that was going through her head was the look that Rick given her in the hall a few minutes before.

She just wanted to know what he was going to tell her. What had Carl told him?

"Someone killed him." Saundra looked angry now, gritting her teeth. "Who did this?"

Jeffrey reached over to touch her shoulder. "We don't know for sure if anyone actually—"

"Someone _did_! He was _clearly_ fucking stabbed!" Saundra pointed at Kip. "I noticed a knife was missing from the utensil drawer this morning, I thought nothing of it then, but—! Someone actually fucking killed my dog, Jeffrey!" Saundra suddenly jumped away from his touch. "Was it you? You _hate_ Kip! Did you—?"

"He was already dead."

Carl stood by the door, Ginny and Skye shadowing him, looking as if they had just awoken. But Carl looked fully awake, carrying a kitchen knife, dry blood apparent on the blade.

" _Carl_." Michonne heard Rick say from beside her.

Carl walked over to the table, stepping over Kip and set the knife down. "I was going to go take a nap, but then I started snooping and I found his cage. I knew he had turned the second I smelled him. I had to do something."

Saundra's angry brown eyes went to Carl. "You did _what_? Without telling _me_?!"

"It wouldn't have mattered." Carl held his arms out. "Your dog was dead already. I swear, I was only trying to protect us."

Saundra's teeth were gritted tightly, and her hands curled up into angry fists. She looked so full of rage Michonne thought she'd explode.

" _God!"_ Screamed Saundra, her tear-filled eyes meeting Rick's. "Are _all_ of your children killers?!" With that, she forcefully bumped shoulders with Carl and pushed past Rick.

"No." Rick said low under his breath. "Just the one that wasn't really mine in the _first_ place."

Michonne turned to Rick. "Huh?"

"Don't bring that up. Not right now." She heard Jeffrey say from behind.

Rick shook his head, and sighed, reaching up to rake his hand through his head.

"I need some air." He turned away and headed down the hall.

 **X**

 _No_. Thought Michonne. _Not today._

She felt her heartbeat through her entire body as she hurried after him, going down the hall past the bathroom and out the front door.

She saw Rick's retreating figure as he trudged toward the woods.

Michonne stepped down the stairs and into the grass.

"Rick!" She called, her throat raw, but Rick kept walking. " _Stop_ walking, Rick!"

He froze in place and she quickly went forward, the rocks stabbing into her feet. When she reached him she stopped walking a few feet away from him.

" _Look at me_." She thought she sounded even angrier than Saundra had, if it was possible.

He obeyed, reluctantly turning his head and then his body. "What? What do you want?"

"What did Carl tell you? What did he tell you that was so important it made you want to tell me?" She asked breathlessly.

Rick opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "It doesn't matter what he told me. It-it's not like I was in my right mind anyhow. I shouldn't have gone back into the trailer."

"Why not?"

"Because—it did me no good, all everyone brings up is _her._ " He admitted, throwing his arms up. "Carl told me you were able to help me, and maybe you are…but I see now that if you and I had spoken, _she's_ what we'd talk about and I don't want to _talk_ about her—I want to forget."

Michonne furrowed her brows. "Rick, I wouldn't want to help you forget that Judith is gone. I would want you to accept it.

"Forgetting—yeah, it would be easier, but it's _never_ going to happen. Judith is going to be on your mind every day. And _every_ time you look at Carl, you _will_ see your daughter—his sister, the one who's gone now. That's just how it is when you lose a child, Rick. It's not fair, but you'll have to learn to bear through it. That's what _I_ did."

"Then maybe those rules don't apply to me," Rick muttered, his eyes lost in the night. "They don't have to."

Michonne bunched up her eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged, white smoke sifting through the air. "Judith was my niece, Michonne, _not_ my daughter."

Michonne felt the breath leave her, no words being able to be formed correctly. "W-what?"

Rick looked back at the trailer. " _He's_ her father."

 _Jeffrey._

" _But—then that means your wife…"_

Rick rubbed at his eyes. "It was _one_ night. She and I were in an argument, but instead of trying to work things out she…"

"I get it." Michonne folded her arms over her chest. "But you raised Judith as her father, right?"

Rick nodded reluctantly. "But that doesn't change the fact that Jeffrey's biologically her—"

"But still, _you_ raised her, Rick." Michonne shook her head. "He's _not_ her father, _you_ are."

When he didn't answer, she released a breath. "You can't try to use that as an excuse, it's just you trying to find the easy way out of grieving. Judith was your daughter and you're going to feel the pain of losing her just as much as you would if you were her biological father." Michonne yawned, and covered her face. "I'm done speaking, Rick, I'm _tired_."

Michonne looked up and saw the almost angered expression on his face and suddenly felt rage too. "Look, I _tried_ , okay? I know I'm not the best at giving advice and I know you're probably just going to go back into the woods to hunt down Mike and…"

She trailed off as he neared her space, walking into her but pulling his arms around her back and burying his face into her hair. She was back in his embrace again, her ear against his heart which had begun beating to the rhythm of his breathing.

"Does this mean you're _not_ going for the latter?" Her voice was muffled.

She felt him shake his head. "No."

Her shoulders sagged with disappointment as she drew away from him, she knew it was useless but she pushed on. " _Rick,_ come on. Be smart about this."

"He _is_ being smart about this."

Michonne jumped, turning toward the trailer and seeing Sonya standing at the door.

"Mike had his people _murder_ Rick's daughter, or were you too busy trying to clear your own guilt to notice?" Sonya tilted her head at Michonne, her demeanor straight-forward and heated.

Michonne was at a loss for words, but managed. "What _guilt_?"

"Of your own son, and of being the reason why Judith is dead. You could have just told everyone that she had killed Garrett and this would have never happened. Judith would be here _right_ now had you just told us. Instead, you went on a run. And for what?"

"I was _trying_ to figure out what to do and I didn't want her to be here while I did that. I wasn't sure what she was capable of." Michonne scrubbed her words from the back of her throat.

"Hold on, Sonya." Rick was watching her with disbelief. "None of this is Michonne's fault—"

"Rick, you are _blinding_ yourself from the truth!" She shouted, heading down the stairs. "Michonne is the root of _all_ of your problems. It's _always_ her."

Michonne sighed, almost hurting at the words that were spewing from Sonya's mouth, she spoke as if she no longer remembered the days that they were friends. "Look, I—"

"Hello. Michonne?"

Michonne broke off, searching for the face the youthful voice belonged to.

There, standing far by the side of the trailer, was a boy. She saw that he was wearing a dark blue coat as he slowly approached the three. "You're Michonne?"

Michonne watched him as he pulled at his hoodie, freeing his curly blonde mane. "Yeah, and you are…?"

Rick, beside her, squinted. "Wait, I know you. You're—"

" _Leroy."_ Said another familiar voice, and Michonne turned, Carl stood beside Sonya on the trailer's stairs. His voice was very deep, his tone almost scary. "It's _fucking_ Leroy."

Before Michonne could answer him, Carl had already swiftly shoved past her, crashing into Leroy and tackling him to the ground.

* * *

 _72\. Thanks love._


	29. Issue 29, The Warning's Here

**Issue #29, "The** ** _Warning's Here_** **"**

"Wait! _Hold up!"_ Michonne heard her own voice call out as she witnessed the brawl.

Of course that was only a second after the boys hit packed earth, sending up a rush of leaves and dirt into the air. Michonne thought she heard a light snap as Carl picked himself up—straddling Leroy—and threw back not one, two, but three heavy punches at Leroy.

The grunts of Carl and the kid Leroy as they wrestled to be atop one another were clearly audible.

Michonne stood there watching, shock obvious on her face. Carl was always such a small thing, only twelve years old. But to see him in front of her knocking the shit out of some much older kid was truly a shocking event.

Beside her, Rick had roused from his momentary daze and had hustled toward the two children. Biting down hard on his lower lip as he forcibly seized Carl by his shoulders and slung him aside.

Carl out of the way, Rick tightened his hand on Leroy's small shoulders and propelled him toward the trailer side. Leroy hit the wall with a look of true fear on his face.

 _"How_ are you here _?"_ Rick asked with visible confusion, his voice was thick with anger and puzzlement, but Leroy didn't answer; he spat a clot of blood onto the ground, his chest heaving.

Michonne found herself dropping by Carl's side on her knees and angrily scolding, "That was some _stupid_ shit you just pulled, Carl."

"True." He shook his head, lifting his hand to touch the deep scratches in his face. "But he deserved it."

She nodded and rose to her feet, approaching Rick and the kid by the trailer side.

"We should speak to him, see what he knows." Rick didn't answer, and her gaze went to Rick's incredibly tight grip on Leroy's shoulders. "Rick, let him go."

" _No_." Came Sonya, who Michonne had almost forgotten was there. She threw herself in between the man and the kid and Michonne. "This is the kid who infiltrated the prison with Judith. This is that _cannibal_ who almost got us all killed—this is the kid whose parents _murdered_ Estelle, your own sister."

Michonne struggled to find the words, but also wondered why she even attempting to defend. "But we should at least _speak_ with him first. Yeah, he's done some shit, but he's a _child_."

Rick wasn't looking at her.

Sonya raised her arms warningly. "This is the only reason why I wish that little girl was still alive. That little girl had balls, Judith _knew_ more—and was more capable than _anyone_ here. Him being a child would _not_ have stopped her, she wouldn't have thought twice about it."

"That may be right," said Michonne. "But that was also what made her more _dangerous_ than us."

 **X**

Skye felt the leaves crush beneath her sneakers and Ginny's, no words were spoken and in result she could hear the crickets as clear as ever. She looked up, seeing that the sky was a dark blanket of white specks, it sort of chilled the mood.

"Is there a reason why we're here, Ginny?" Skye scratched at the side of her face. "I was really tired, plus—"

"I like Carl, Skye." Ginny brushed a blonde curl from her shoulder and stopped walking, to turn and face Skye, the look of guilt on her face. "I still want to be _with_ Carl."

" _Still?_ " Skye tilted her head at her. "As in…"

Ginny looked down at her feet. "As in we used to _kiss and stuff_ before you came back."

"It's _called_ dating, Ginny." Skye sighed, using her hand to comb through her wildly feathered afro.

"I know." Her voice was small.

"Well," Skye looked around, trying to find the words. "I guess this means he couldn't wait for me after all."

"But he _drew_ you, in his sketching book—or at least what passed for it. He missed you _so_ much, it made me jealous." Ginny admitted, her blue eyes almost black.

Skye chuckled, interlocking her own hands and cracking her knuckles. "Yeah. I-I saw those drawings. He's really good."

She had a smile on her face as the thought of that went through her head, almost a bit too distracted to notice the shadows slowly approaching the girl ahead of her.

Ginny giggled. "He _is_. I even think that—uh… _AHH!"_

Skye's head quickly rose at the earsplitting wail that echoed through the entirety of the forest. Ginny's voice had gone from amiable to _freaked-the-fuck-out_ and Skye looked around from her friend to realize that the vacant forest was now congested by a throng of roamers.

And only one who appeared very live-like had taken a chunk of skin from Ginny's throat, skin stretching among the gaps in its teeth, leaving the young girl screaming as blood jet out like the water from the fountains at an animal museum she'd once gone to with her parents.

Skye didn't have a moment to scream as she backed away, and before her own eyes, Ginny was devoured and her chilling cries died along with her.

Skye turned to run, as fast as her own feet would take her but tripped and the two shadows she found herself gazing at from above weren't roamers. They instead were the two she never thought she'd see again, it had been Mike, Michonne's fiancé and beside him, _Maxine_.

"Long time," began Maxine, the shadows outlining the sharp grin that materialized onto her face. " _No see_."

 **X**

The door of the trailer cracked open, light spilling from the front area and out stepped Sonya, Michonne, Rick, Carl and Leroy in their orderly angry fashion.

"How are we supposed to trust you, Leroy? You can't even tell us why you're here!" Michonne articulated, balling her fist as they paused in front of the trailer.

Maybe he _was_ just a cannibal that had gotten her sister killed, but he _was_ still a child—and even if he did turn out to be a piece of shit—what would they do to a child?

Leroy turned to face her and he sighed. "I'm sorry, I know my Mom killed your sister, Ms. Michonne, and I know what happened to Judith and I'm sorry about that too. I _liked_ her."

"How would you know what happened to Judith?" Rick expressed. "The only people who would know about that—"

"Is Mike and Maxine." Leroy said, his eyes wide as ever.

"Wha—?" Began Rick. "How in the holy hell would you know _them_?"

Leroy looked down. "My Mom and I, we were trying to find another place to live, after my Dad died we didn't want to stay at our camp anymore. We came across the Grove, and Maxine. We—"

Boom.

Michonne jumped at the sudden loud and thundering crescendo that seemed to come in from every direction. But instead of looking for the source, she looked for the result. Even down at her own stomach, which was empty of any wounds.

Michonne's worried gaze went to Rick, then Sonya, but they were _okay_.

So when she looked forward and down at the short child that stood ahead of her and saw that there was an opening in Leroy's chest that was pouring blood, her eyes went wide.

"So he _was_ a sneaky liar after all. ' _I have to take a leak'_ my ass." Spoke a voice that she recognized all too well. Mike.

It was dark, but she recognized the face of her ex-fiancé and his partner, the one-armed Grover. Maxine.

They were here. Together. Just like Leroy had said.

As Leroy had begun to slip to the ground, Michonne brought her arm around his back and dropped along with him to save the child from any more pain. She tightened her grip around his shoulders and blinked down at him in her arms.

"You _were_ telling the truth." She croaked out.

Leroy, whose eyes had still been open, coughed up blood. "I—didn't think that th-they would come _so soon_." He admitted sickly.

Unintentionally, tears collected in her right eye and one plopped on his cheek, she opened her mouth but she couldn't find words.

Leroy stopped his coughing to say: " _I'm sorry_." He faintly smiled.

"I forgive you…okay?" Leroy's eyes were distant, faraway. He was looking at her, but not _at her._ " _Okay_? Leroy?"

No answer.

She noticed that his body had stiffened, his shoulders hunching up.

Michonne shut her eyes, burying her face into his bloody chest. No cries escaped her, but she could certainly feel a sting in her chest.

"God…" She whispered.

 **X**

"Are you done crying, Michonne?"

The sound of Mike's voice sickened her, and Michonne didn't look up from Leroy's small body in her arms.

But the sound of leaves rustling made her raise up just as a petite white woman emerged from the forest, she stepped in beside Maxine, her hair short and incredibly dark.

The instant Michonne saw her, she recognized her. This was the woman she had seen out on the road when she was last with Estelle, the woman who had fired the shot that had took her sister from her.

This was Leroy's mother.

" _Oh-oh-oh my god!"_ A sobbing scream tore from her throat as she released her rifle from her grip and sped toward Michonne.

She dropped onto her knees at the sight of Leroy in his state. Visible droplets of tears coursed down her face as she reached out and seized her son by his shoulders. She carried him in her arms as she quietly sobbed onto his forehead.

A moment of silence was given to her before she looked up at Michonne. "Did you do this? Was this because of Estelle?" Her voice was angry as if she no longer had another care in the world. "Am—am I _next_?"

Michonne cleared her throat. "I'm not the one with the gun."

Leroy's mother looked around wildly, but wasn't quick enough to see Mike with the revolver. Maxine, quick as ever, had stepped in behind her. The spark of a blade was seen briefly before Maxine had buried the knife into the top of the woman's head.

Michonne heard the sickening sound of flesh squelching as Maxine tore the jagged knife out and blood splattered onto the grass.

Maxine muttered something low under her breath and stepped back in her place beside Mike.

Michonne's mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

Slowly, Leroy's mother slumped over her own son, blood flowing down her scalp.

There were no more words for the night, no more time to be shocked. Mike and Maxine were here for blood and there were sure to get it if Michonne didn't think fast.

But she saw no way out of this.

The man from the cabin, Jonah, also stood beside them and on his side was Skye. Tears brimmed her big brown eyes, he had his fingers in her hair, a menacing look on his face.

He knelt down and picked up the gun Leroy's mother had dropped.

Mike then looked over to the two standing on his sides. "I want this entire camp cleared out. Check the trailer too. I don't want anyone here left alive."

"Come on!" She heard Rick from behind her. He reached down and tugged at Michonne's shoulder.

Michonne was on her feet, dashing around the trailer with Sonya, Rick, and Carl ahead of her. Bullets pattered heavily against the trailer as they stopped behind the vehicle.

"What are we going to do?" Michonne looked around. "They have _Skye_."

Before any of them could provide an answer to her query, the trailer had begun to rock.

Michonne met Rick's worried gaze.

"It's going to tip!" Carl screamed. "We have to go for the woods—it's the safest place!"

Michonne heard Rick silently agree as they dove for cover in the thick bushes of the woods.

Behind her she heard the creak of the trailer and the heavy impact it made on the ground behind it.

Only half-way there, Michonne turned in realization just as a piercing scream sounded through the air.

Sonya.

"Oh god!" Michonne heard herself say as her eyes followed the scream.

The trailer was on its side and trapped beneath it was Sonya. Her face was red and veiny, her body from the waist and lower was beneath the trailer, blood already gathering beneath her.

She bellowed again, this time with a grunt, and threw her head back in agony. " _Gah_!"

Michonne felt her eyes watering and turned in time to see a swarm of roamers collecting in the area.

Sonya's scream had only brought more.

She _could_ run, but her feet wouldn't let her.

Michonne went for Sonya, only midway there when Sonya had begun shouting again:

"Go! Just go, you _bitch_! Just fucking go! I'm dead already!"

Michonne's bottom lip quivered as she joined Rick and Carl in the bushy opening of the forest.

Sonya's crushed figure disappeared in the mass of roamers. The sound of gunfire and screams were the only thing audible in the moment.

Everything was blurring, the noise, the area. Until something threw itself at her hip.

With fearful hazel eyes, peppery freckles and a cloudy hairdo, she recognized it as Skye. She hugged Michonne's hip, the girl's eyes were slightly red from tears.

The momentary blur cleared and Michonne dropped to her knees beside Skye. "How—how'd you get free?"

"The walkers were on them." Skye spoke breathlessly, dry tears on her face. "I-I got away unnoticed."

Michonne looked around, then back to Skye when Carl had threw himself into her embrace. She hadn't seen before but Carl's face was waterlogged with tears. He breathed heavily into Skye's hair as he struggled to let out some words.

"Have you seen Ginny? Is she in the trailer with Uncle Jeffrey?"

Skye blinked and moved her mouth to Carl's ear to whisper something. Michonne didn't know what she had said that made his shoulders sag, and a deep sob to come from him.

Skye had stopped crying though, she was just caressing Carl's head.

"I'm _sorry_." She whispered loud enough for Michonne to hear.

Rick brushed past the children to Michonne. "Mike's going to find us soon. I need to get into the trailer, Jeffrey and Saundra could be injured, the trailer took a damn hard fall."

"You're right. But _I'll_ find them, _you_ are _not_ going out there, I need you here." She told him, looking to the side, her hardened eyes watching walkers being gunned down in a hail of bullets.

Rick tugged on her shoulders. "Michonne, what the hell are you talking about? Obviously I'm going out there with you."

"I'm saying you need to stay here," Michonne sighed. "Skye and Carl need _you_ to get them to _safety."_

"I can't—"

"I am NOT about to watch another child die today. That is _not_ happening." She snapped, the image of Leroy lamented in her arms found itself back in her head. "First _Andre_ , then _Judith_ , and now _Leroy_? I don't want Skye and Carl turning out that way and you don't either."

Rick looked at the ground behind them. "Y-you're right."

"Rick." She called and his eyes found hers again. "What's more important to you? Settling a score with Mike, or getting these children—your son and his _girlfriend_ —to safety?"

"You know the answer." He told her.

Michonne nodded. "Good."

Despite the endlessly sorrowful moments the day had been filled with, she found a place in her heart to be gratified that he was still alive.

She smiled faintly, thinking: _yeah, that's something to be thankful about_.

With the thought counted, she took his stubbled face in between her hands and kissed him. Though she had to rise on the heels of her boots and blur out the sound of gunfire and screams to do so, it was worth it to her.

Her lips slid from his as her strained feet were flat on the ground again, Michonne sighed and let her arms fall to her side.

"When I get them somewhere safe, I _will_ be back."

Michonne curled her eyebrows. "But—"

"Hey, you dice with death, I do too." He tilted his head at her. "Only fair, right?"

Michonne nodded slowly. "Right."

He could take care of himself. Always could.

She tapped his shoulder, and turned away, vanishing in a rustle of bushes.

 **X**

She needed her sword.

That's what went through her head as she entered the field littered with the bodies of roamers, ducking behind the back of a distracted walker. The gunfire had only slightly subsided and she could no longer spot Mike or Maxine anywhere.

But she saw the trailer, and on the side underneath was the mangled corpse of Sonya. She was unrecognizable as her entre face had been fed upon, but her wavy blonde mane was still there.

Michonne blinked, and took her eyes off the woman. She approached the trailer, jumping atop to jump inside.

It was like she was entering a flipped world because everything was different. She stepped over a crushed desk and its spewing clothing and crawled through the front door.

The lights inside the fallen trailer were blinking.

Michonne ducked into the small area where she slept and groped around until she felt her hands find the textured hilt of her sword. She pulled the strap over and under her breasts then crawled out of the room.

" _Saundra!_ Jeffrey!" She called, looking around the flickering area.

A female grunt made her turn. Michonne found herself clawing a plastic drawer out of the way, uncovering a bloody Saundra who had been trapped in the corner of a hall.

"Hey." Michonne reached for her arm. "Saundra, come on."

Saundra looked dazed and confused, a mess of blood had collected at her hairline. "M-Michonne? What is…?"

Michonne lifted Saundra's arm over her neck. "We're being attacked. The trailer was knocked over." Michonne stepped over furniture, cans and clothing until they reached the front door.

Before they went out into the dark night, Saundra gasped. "Wait—we have to get Jeffrey, a-and your friend Sidney. They're somewhere inside."

"I know." Michonne said to her. "I'll get them out. But you first, okay?"

Saundra looked reluctant but nodded anyway as Michonne stepped down into the grass and welcomed the chill night air.

But that wasn't the only thing she was welcomed with.

Because there stood Maxine, holding a single handgun with her only available hand, a knife tucked in her belt.

She had it raised toward Michonne, but Michonne ducked and shoved Saundra to the ground, Maxine fell a few feet away from them.

The bullets missed them and rained against the trailer. Michonne watched in shock as the trailer groaned deeply and began moving, sliding roughly over rocks, and now disappearing over the cliff.

There was the loudest impact against the earth below.

"NO!" Saundra's eyes watered violently. " _Jeffrey!"_

Maxine turned the gun on Saundra and pulled the trigger only to hear the clicking sound of an empty gun.

Maxine moaned and threw the gun aside, rapidly approaching the two women who were still sprawled out on the ground.

Michonne grabbed Saundra's wet face in her hands and focused her eyes on the woman. "Hey—hey, Saundra, listen to me. I need you to go, okay? I need you to go and find the rest of us!" Michonne looked to see Maxine still approaching and turned to Saundra.

Saundra, tear-filled and confused, still found the strength to nod. " _O-okay!"_

"Go!" They struggled to their feet and Saundra filed in the direction of the woods.

Michonne hauled herself into a sitting position, only to have Maxine ram into her, and she cried out at the snap she felt and heard in her left leg. They slid into the area the trailer once sat and was lived in and Maxine lifted herself up, smirking.

"Finally, Michonne, I get you _alone_."

 **X**

Hands shaking, palms moist with sweat, and on high alert, Rick brushed aside a long swinging branch and ushered the two children deeper into the forest.

A droplet of water plopped onto his hand and he looked up just as a shower of rain began to slowly escape the sky.

"Here." Said Rick, blinking as rain popped against his face. He stepped past Carl and Skye to approach the thickest tree in the area. The place he recalled spending almost every day—after _Judith_ —at. "Behind this, get behind it."

He leaned against it as the two scurried behind the tree and pulled his revolver from his belt and the knife from his pocket.

He held the gun out to Skye and the knife to Carl. "Use these. You see anyone—and I mean _anyone_. Kill them."

Hesitantly, Carl nodded and Skye too.

"We will." She whispered.

"Good, that's good."

Rick backed away from the tree.

Carl, worriedly, widened his eyes. "Dad, where are you going?"

Rick shook his head, looking down at his tight fist. "To settle a score."

* * *

 **So...I personally loved this chapter and am proud of it, tell me what you think, I'd really like to know, be honest. I cannot say thank you enough for the 74 reviews, I never expected Prison Viverly to reach that many. So thank you!-again!**


	30. Issue 30, The Denouement (Part 1)

**Issue #30, "The Denouement" (Part 1)**

 **Please tell me what you think.  
**

 **Be honest. You hate it?** ** _Tell me_** **. You love it?** ** _Tell me._**

 **I'd** ** _really, really, really_** **love to know.**

 **X**

Rain teemed down on them, leaving Carl and Skye to shiver together, their clothes hung wet and heavy on their small bodies.

They had listened to Rick.

Sitting beside each other on the ground against the tree that they had been told to stay behind.

Carl flicked the blade of the knife he'd been given against his fingers. His head was full of thoughts. Thoughts that maybe no one would survive but himself and Skye.

"My Mom's dead," said Skye out of nowhere as she buried herself into his side, her usually billowy hair was limp and wet, darkly shining curls pressed up against his face. "My Dad too. Even Karson…and Sonya." She bit her wet bottom lip, her breath coming away as a mist of white smoke.

Carl focused his eyes on her, seeing that the gun his father had given to her was still in her fingers, almost as big as her hands altogether.

"I don't know, it just seems like there's no one left." Skye shrugged. "There's no purpose."

"Our families are what give us purpose." Carl whispered, his voice shaky.

He had not forgotten about Ginny and everything they had done together—it was just _now_ flashing behind his eyes.

Skye shook her head. "But what if you don't even have a family? Like me?"

Carl made sure she was looking at him as he began speaking. "Skye Freitas, you say that you lost your Mom. And you _did_. But who has been here with you all this time, even when I wasn't? Who?"

She didn't have to think about it. "Michonne."

"Yeah, I lost my Mom too. But Michonne has _always_ been here and I can't help but think that…maybe this is a second chance." He sighed, an almost calm and relaxed expression on his face, as if he had settled into his newfound realization. "Maybe Michonne's my new Mom."

"Yeah…" Skye blinked away her momentary doubtfulness and smiled up at him. "She _is_."

A bush rustled, a twig snapped, or maybe it was a voice.

But it was something that brought the joy from their expressions, and their watchful eyes out. Skye, on alert, took a second to stare up at Carl.

He matched her look, watching Skye—her beautiful dark skin, her brown eyes, and her quivering bottom lip. It was all too much.

Carl found himself shaking profusely, and it wasn't due to the rain or the cold weather.

There were, indeed, people only a few feet away from them on the other side of the tree, and their voices were easy to hear.

"Mike said we should only go in if he gave a _signal_ ," said a thick-voiced girl. "There was no fucking signal, so why the hell did you drag us out of the van?"

There was a male voice, and he recognized it as Jonah. "Because, Naomi, you are always begging to get some action. Now I'm giving you a reason to use your gun."

Skye, beside him had begun tremoring as he had. But instead of only being afraid, she looked angry, upset and like she was hyperventilating. Her chest began pumping heavily, her eyes wide, her body almost like it was in shock.

"Skye," spoke Carl, through the heavy showering rain and loud whooshing winds. At this point, he didn't care how loud he was, he just wanted his girlfriend to be okay. "Skye, _breathe._ "

He reached out to touch her, but as soon as his hand barely swept against her shoulder she—without warning—leaped upward onto her feet, revealing herself to their company.

" _Skye!"_

She fired the gun Rick had given to her a total of six times. The shots were bright and they were fatal, resonant and sounded like explosions.

Without question, Carl bound after her, stopping beside Skye.

"Skye, you—"

" _Shit_." Cursed Skye, and he looked up to meet what she had been looking at. " _Carl_."

Yes, there were bodies on the ground—Skye had taken down at least five of Mike and Maxine's group—but their company was much more than they had expected.

Carl's eyes widened at the older figures that stood in a shock, and they were armed. There were probably more than six people that stood in front of them.

There was no other word he knew other than _one_ that could describe what Skye had gotten them into with her riotous decision.

" _Shit_." Carl spat.

X

His only weapon was a knife. He'd left the rest to the children, but a knife was all he needed.

Rick took that from his pocket and clutched it in his hand as he ducked behind a branch the second he had heard the sound.

It was a smashing noise, and from his view he saw man straddling someone. It was a walker, and the man was continuously burying the hilt of his gun in the head of that walker until it stopped fighting.

It was Mike.

" _Unff_." Mike sat back on the ground, out of breath and tossed his gun aside. " _Damn_."

Rick pushed past the branch until he was in the same opening as the man who was responsible for the pit he felt in his stomach.

" _Mike_." Began Rick, causing Mike to jump in surprise, scurrying to his feet. "You thought you'd just roll up to the trailer…murder us all in cold blood, and then walk away _unscathed_?"

Rick flipped the knife around in his hand, slowly approaching Michonne's ex-fiancé, all while biting the insides of his lip.

"Maybe." Mike shrugged, chuckling nervously, not bothering to step back. "But I would be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for a fight. A little, you know, scuffle in the forest before I returned to my cabin for a cup of tea?"

Rick sucked his teeth and shook his head in disbelief. "How would you do it? That's what I don't get. How would you be able to go about living in this world knowing what you did? How do you _sleep_ at night after doing _all_ that you've done?"

"Easy! There is no _life_ , man! There's no _government_ , no parent, no _God_ that I would have to answer too! I can do what I want and _that's_ how!" Mike's chest heaved after he had snapped and Rick stared back with a gaze of disgust.

Mike smirked, tilting his head. "Now why don't we quit our yapping and get onto that little scuffle in the forest, shall we?"

"Never been more quick to agree—" Rick broke off as Mike went for him, the man's fist only slightly connecting with Rick's jaw. Rick moved to the side and Mike was thrown to the ground.

Rick curled his lip angrily, closing his hand around his knife and charged toward Mike. But the man was fast and he had already gotten to his feet, slapping aside Rick's hand only to be rammed into the tree.

Mike, though trapped, began to continuously pound Rick's hand against the trunk until Rick's knuckles were crushed and bloody, the pain was too overwhelming so he released the knife—sticky with blood—and it hit the ground.

Mike used his knee to bring up in between Rick's legs. Rick groaned in pain, crashing into the ground and he didn't have a moment to collect himself cause a booted foot had already been delivered to his chest.

To his stomach, and to his face…

But instead of taking the pain, Rick's eyes wandered to the side and landed on the lumpy shape of nature. His arm darted out, hands closing on the rock and brought it to the side of Mike's head.

The man fell to the ground and Rick dropped the rock, getting on top of the man. He threw back his own punches and pain resonated through his fist.

CRACK!

"This is for almost killing me!" Rick screamed, voice full of anguish.

CRACK!

"For taking my group hostage!"

CRACK!

"For tormenting the _woman_ _I love!"_

CRACK!

"And…this," Rick wearily took a breath, drawing back his wavering bloodied fist. "This is for _murdering_ _my fucking daughter!"_

He prepared the final blow.

"Wait! WAIT! Just wait!" Mike yelped, something about the desperation in his tone made Rick stop mid-there. "You're talking about Judith, right? That little girl was your daughter? The one I sent a few of my group after?"

Rick curiously watched Mike speak through a mouthful of blood.

"Yeah—I-I heard about what they did to her," Mike released a quick chuckle. "Apparently they beat the _shit_ out of her and then strangled her with her _own_ shoe strings! I mean— _ha, ha, ha!—_ how pathetic is that?"

Rick was there, almost there, he squeezed his fist tighter.

" _Okay! Okay!_ For real, wait a fucking second, man!" Mike spat a clump of red saliva to the side in the grass. "I know what she said. I know what Judith's last words were."

Rick shook uneasily, his eyes collecting with tears.

"One of the youngest in my group, Kris? Yeah, she-she was right there when Judith began rambling on about how she wanted to _change_ , some shit about _wanting to still be who she used to be_." Mike took a quick laugh. "I mean, I don't— _know_ what that means, but I'm sure it holds a little significance to you, doesn't it?"

Rick was ready, ready to smash Mike's face in with his fist. Ready to get rid of this killer that lay beneath him. He was more than ready. But something held him back, and it wasn't the sound of walkers he heard filling into the area they lay in.

Because he _did_ hear them, they moaned and made the trees shake, but he didn't move.

There was a voice.

Michonne's voice.

 _"_ _It's not going to help you, Rick, so just forget about it._

 _I know you need your space to mourn your daughter, I know you do and we'll give you that._

 _But after that…you need to come back to your family._

 _To the people that care about you._

 _Not to revenge."_

With an angry scream, Rick drove his fist into the ground right beside Mike's busted face. It took a lot—maybe all of him to do so. Be he did. He felt like he was actually being smart about this, something Michonne had once begged him to be.

Practically feeling the faint breath of walkers on his back, Rick rolled off of the man and hauled himself into a standing position. Walkers were definitely coming in from all directions and Mike couldn't move.

" _Don't leave me here!"_ Mike cried out.

Rick took a step toward the safest place in the forest.

"Don't you fucking d—" He broke off to an exclamation of surprise, and a thunder of curse words followed soon after until all he could do was howl as he was guzzled up by the walkers.

 **X**

"Finally, Michonne, I get you alone."

Michonne groaned beneath Maxine's pressure, her arms were pinned down and her legs were in pain. "How? How did you know where we were? How'd you know to find Mike?" She asked.

Maxine looked reluctant, but her mouth opened. "After Angelica got rid of my family because of your hero raid on the Grove—my Sisters, the Sisterhood, we got rid of _her_. Pretty much everything went to fucking shit and we lost a lot of the Sisters, others just left to be on their own.

"I was _angry_ and I wanted you and your group _dead_. So I headed down to Viverly. But no one was there. Went on a run and who did I find? Your sweet doctor. I think her name was Karla. No…that's not it."

Michonne gulped. " _Karson_."

"Yeah. That's it." Maxine laughed. "We took her, made her speak, made her tell us where you would be. She told me about this trailer park in Macon. Guess she wasn't really your friend after all."

 _Karson probably thought we'd never come here,_ thought Michonne.

"Trying to get into Macon, that's when I came across Mike. I gave him half of my supplies, but I couldn't just come here—I needed muscle, so we made a deal."

"Did you kill her? Did you kill Karson?"

"Guess you'll never know." Maxine parted her lips to speak.

Michonne brought up her elbow and cracked Maxine in the jaw, she fell onto her back with a holler.

Michonne struggled into a sitting position, but the woman then rushed at Michonne and—

SHUKK!

A gasp of blood left Michonne's mouth as she looked down. There was a knife protruding from her body, just below her right breast.

"Ugh!" Michonne doubled over and coughed up blood, flumping over on her side, feeling dizzy.

Maxine saw this as an opportunity as she yanked the knife out of Michonne's chest. A smirk of triumph on her mouth as she stood up above Michonne. "Shit! _This feels so good!_ All these months and finally, I'm _here_. _"_

Only one of Michonne's eyes were open, because her left eyelid had unintentionally slid shut. Blood dribbled from her mouth as she attempted to move her head but it was stuck to the ground with numbness.

"You're dead, Michonne."

Maxine grinned, rushing toward Michonne again to deliver the final blow.

Michonne shut her eyes in desperation and tried to move.

She kicked up her legs, and Maxine tripped over them, flying over the edge with a scream. Michonne's body immediately began sliding over the cliff where the trailer had gone, but she caught at the edge, digging her fingers into the rock.

Michonne felt a pressure on her legs, and she had thought it to be pain from snapping one of them, but it was Maxine.

Holding onto her legs with her one arm, and she was slipping. The woman's face looked up at Michonne in disbelief.

" _L-let go!"_ Michonne weakly yelped, trying to kick her feet again to get the woman to release her, but Maxine's grip was just too tight. " _Just let me go_."

"You took my arm," Maxine's voice was faint because of the land beneath them that looked so far. "You took my family. You are NOT taking my life too! I won't _let you_!"

Tears dribbled down Michonne's face, but not for Maxine, for herself. After everything, because she knew that this was the end and she was scared. For the first time in a long while, Michonne felt ice in her bones. She was _scared_.

"I'm sorry," Michonne croaked. "I'm sorry for all that I did to you, if any of it made you turn out this way."

Michonne felt that her fingernails had already snapped because of her dear grip on the rocks.

"But I hope"—Michonne coughed—"I hope you can enjoy _the view_ _from below_."

Michonne kicked out.

It was unexpected for Maxine, but this got her arm to loosen on Michonne's legs. Michonne felt the pressure slowly leaving her body as Maxine slipped away.

There were echoe-y wails of anger and fear as she plummeted toward the dark land below.

 _Crack!_

She smacked against the trailer and hit the dirt face-first.

Michonne sighed. It was of relief, and freedom. For the first time she felt the dark cloud leave her.

But this wasn't it, Michonne instantly felt a sharp sting throughout her entire body and this caused her hands to break free of the rock.

Her body slid lower on the edge of the cliff. By now there was nothing to hold on to. Michonne breathed heavily as her hand slowly began to shift down the rock and her body was ready to give away.

Michonne shut her eyes, a scream rose in her throat as soon as it happened, and all she heard was clapping sound.

 _Is that the sound of my body snapping in two? I always thought it would feel a bit more agonizing._

Michonne released her eyelids from their squeeze and saw the starry dark sky above her, and she saw her own hand—her dark-skinned hand, but it was being gripped by a fairer-skinned person's hand.

She hadn't fallen, Michonne realized instantly, she'd been caught.

She was tugged upward and onto her back. The blur cleared, and the worried face that loomed above her was only Rick.

"You're okay," she thought she heard him say as he slid his arms beneath her head and under her thighs, she was raised up in his arms.. " _Dicing with death, huh?_ —you were pretty close."

Michonne heard herself chuckle as he began walking.

" _Pretty damn close_." She replied, but then the smile dropped from her face as she remembered exactly what had happened before. "Rick…"

"Shh. I know." His cheerful, light-hearted expression darkened a bit, but his eyes still eyed her intensely. "I saw the trailer down there, and I saw _her_. _I know_ my brother's dead."

She rocked in his grip as he treaded into the dark forest.

"I was too late." She whispered, her eyelids droopy. "…but I tried."

"I'm sure you did."

With her head pressed against his chest, his voice became muffled, drowned out by the rapid beat of his heart as she became numb and lost consciousness.


	31. Issue 30, The Denouement (Part 2)

**_Issue #30_** _, "The Denouement" ( **Part 2** )_

 ** _a/n_** **:** I hate to be perplexing, but this is _not_ the last chapter I will be posting. There'll be more parts of this chapter. I just now realized that I _cannot_ and _will not_ be able to shove all of the things that _I_ want in just one chapter. I'm not sure at how many parts it's going to take, but please stick with me.

* * *

 **"This is bad." Began Carl, raising his hands in defeat. "This is _really_ , _really_ bad."**

Skye looked up at him. "I can _see that_."

"HEY! Drop the fucking gun!" Shouted the blue-haired girl—Naomi. As Carl's eyes adjusted he saw that there were actually no more than _three_ of Mike's people that stood in the area.

" _Shoot her_." Carl whispered harshly.

"Drop the gun right now, you _stupid_ bitch." Naomi stepped past the dead bodies that lay together in a bloody sprawl, two other girls standing behind her. They seemed to have recovered quickly from losing a few of their friends.

"Skye, shoot her! _Just shoot her!"_

Suddenly, Skye released the gun from her grip and it hit the wet grass, rain immediately pattered against the weapon.

Carl tilted his head at her, confusion and disbelief in his eyes. "Why would you—?"

"It was _empty_ , Carl. I can't shoot someone with an empty gun." Skye tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. "I'm sorry I couldn't save us. I made a stupid decision jumping out here like some—"

"Get the kids, Lucie, Kris, get them on their knees." Naomi looked back at two of the younger girls who stood behind her.

The two girls obeyed, strapped down with a gun as they stepped over. They disappeared behind Carl and Skye, he felt his calves weaken from being kicked in and he dropped to his knees. Skye too.

Naomi released a triumphant giggle. "We're going to do this the execution style. How about that?"

Carl felt his entire body beginning to shake.

 _Execution style?_

His bottom lip quivered at the image of being killed right beside Skye, who would be next.

Carl blinked, his eyes watering, and they found their way to Skye. She was a strong girl, her face remained blank of any sadness. "I—"

" _Shh_." Skye said lowly, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "Just think about something that makes you happy." Even she couldn't stop a flowing tear from trailing down her skin and plopping into the forest ground.

The only thing that came into his mind, was the prison, and being there. Being with everyone, being with Skye, with Rick, with Michonne, with Judith. And there would be rough times, there would be walkers. But they were together and _that_ made him happy.

It would never happen.

He watch Naomi take her place behind the two, and the feeling of cold metal to the back of his head against his wet hair.

 _Just think about the prison, Carl_ —he told himself.

He heard her cock back the hammer, and in the corner of his eye saw Skye's face engulfed with tears and rain.

 _Think about your Dad, think about Michonne. Just think about—_

 _Blam!_

" _CARL?!"_ Skye's voice was almost so loud, earsplitting, even louder than the gunshot.

Carl fell forward onto his face, the gun on the ground. With his body pinned, he saw Naomi right beside him. She was truly a pretty girl, with small eyes, and dark blue hair now matted with blood, making it almost purple.

Naomi coughed, just as a figure fell on top of her, a rock in that person's hand as they delivered endless blows to Naomi's head. Flaky skin and blood came off on that rock, blood spilled from her broken forehead and into Naomi's empty, dead eyes.

Through the rain, he saw that the person on top of Naomi had dark skin.

 _Michonne_ , he thought.

But with loose curls instead of dreads, and a blue flannel shirt—which he knew Michonne never wore—it was Saundra.

Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, her face soaked with rain. "Carl!" She screamed dropping from Naomi and lifting him in her arms. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Carl felt his tenseness go away. Maybe it was because he thought that it had been him who was shot and _not_ the ground, but he swore he felt a pressure on his body. "I'm fine."

Carl quickly rolled out of Saundra's grasp and closed his fingers on the gun that Naomi had dropped.

 _There were more people in the area_.

He fired one shot at the girl Kris and hit her chest. The girl dropped backward. His gun went to Lucie, but it only clicked when he tried to pull the trigger.

"Good thing Naomi never thought to reload her gun." Lucie grinned softly, preparing to raise her rifle.

 _Shukk!_

Lucie's eyes went wide, her arms quickly fell to the side, blood dribbling from her open mouth. When she slipped to the grass, there was Rick standing behind her, a small knife with a bloody blade in his hand.

"Dad!" Carl rushed onto his feet, brushing past Skye and hugging at his father's waist. "Where were you?"

"Getting rid of Mike." Rick tucked his knife into his pocket and slid his arm around Carl's back. "But walkers got to him before I could."

"What about Maxine?" Skye asked, as Saundra helped her to her feet.

Rick shook his head. "She's gone. Michonne took care of her."

Carl squinched his eyebrows. "Where _is_ Mich…" The words died on his lips as he caught sight of a woman slumped against a tree a few feet away, she was unconscious and wearing familiar clothes.

" _M-Michonne_?" He broke away from his father and tiredly rushed to the woman, dropping to his knees beside her, he saw that her clothing was stained with blood. The feeling was different than almost being murdered, tears rolled down his face along with rain. "Michonne, _wake up_."

He watched Rick appear beside him, sliding his arms beneath Michonne and raising her in his arms.

"She's not gone, Carl, she's just hurt. But I won't let her die. Okay?" He looked down at his son.

" _Okay_."

"Let's get out of this place." Spoke Saundra, her arm on Skye's shoulder. "I don't want to be here. Not with…not while knowing that _he_ is here." Her eyes were red from previously crying, Rick saw.

"I saw." He let her know with a small nod. "I know what happened."

"Then you know this place is useless. Without the-the trailer we're just back out on the road." Saundra sighed, rubbing frustratingly at her forehead. "But you'll be alright, there's a town not four miles from here."

Rick shifted on his feet. _"Four_ miles? You think…" he looked over to Carl, then back to Saundra, wondering if he should use his next words, "…you think she'll make it?"

"No telling, but we have to make sure her wounds are bandaged before we go." Saundra sighed. "We'll have to hurry, and if we _do_ , it'll probably take half an hour."

Rick nodded, a scary-calm expression on his face.

"She's already bandaged." He leaned toward Saundra. "Is there _any_ part of this forest safe enough for us to get back to our vehicles?"

"From the direction I came in, it's completely herded. Yes, the cars would be faster, but if we waste time trying to get to them she'll probably die on the way. We're just going to have to walk."

"I'm fine with that." Spoke Carl, and Skye nodded with him. "Anything to save her."

Rick inclined his head toward the kids, and turned away from Saundra. Michonne, who lay in his arms had begun to appear pale. He had his jacket bound compacted tightly around her chest wound but no matter how tight, he could still feel her blood dribbling into his palm.

He watched her with desperation and released a shaky breath. "We're gonna make it." He told himself, and started toward the direction he knew led to the roads.

* * *

 _ **ps**_ : this woman right here—yeah, me—is very happy that this isn't the last chapter. See y'all next update.


	32. Issue 30, The Denouement (Part 3)

**Issue #30, "The Denouement" (Part 3)**

"You used to work here?" Rick queried, eyeing the darkly lit city around him.

The roads were cluttered with trucks and cars, and the moonlight spilled into the area they occupied, making it easier to see. The town was vacant of people and walkers.

Stores and houses were dark, some of their windows crashed into, others were burned to the ground. But the fabric shop they stood in front of was untouched, people would never think about going into one of these stores.

"Yeah," Saundra turned away from the glass door of the _Maconic_ fabric shop to face Rick, shrugging her limp shoulders. "I got fired from a donut stop and this was my last resort."

"I see." Said Rick, opening his mouth to say something else but at that moment in his arms, Michonne had gasped awake and slouched over to spew up blood, it pattered against the road, sparkling the asphalt. "Michonne?"

Skye and Carl's eyes went straight to the sickly awakened woman.

Her face was pained, eyebrows knitted, her bottom lip curled up and she clutched at her chest. A groan left her mouth as she twisted in his hold. It was as if she wasn't aware of anyone or anything around her, the only thing she knew was her own agony.

Carl looked up at Rick. "Dad?" _Do something_ , his look read.

Saundra was quick as crashed her fist into the glass door, reaching in through the hole and unlocking it.

"Inside _now!"_ She ushered Carl and Skye inside, and held the door out so Rick could follow.

He was met with a big factory-like shop, with dusty grounds and aisles full of fabric rolls and sewing materials. He heard Saundra slam the door behind him and push a rack in front of it.

Rick looked around wildly just as Saundra disappeared into a dark area. There was the sound of a flick and the area was lit. Emerging from the area, Saundra carried a candle, the smell of fruit being the most pleasant aroma he'd ever breathed in a while.

Rick's eyes went to Michonne, she was shaking in his arms, her skin glittered with sweat. He reached down to touch her forehead and felt a searing heat to his fingertips.

"She's burning up." He announced to Saundra.

"There's a staff bathroom behind the counter. Follow me!" Saundra led the way, and they went through long aisles, past a large area with a vending machine and clothing racks until they reached the main desk.

After seeing Saundra slide over it, Rick forced himself to climb over the counter with Michonne in his arms, and rushed into the room Saundra had opened.

Once inside, the light flicked on. It blinked, and then was constant.

"The backup generators." Said Saundra.

The bathroom was a small place, but it was big enough to fit everyone. There was a rusty low toilet beside a wide sink and across the room was a small white bathtub.

Saundra dropped to her knees on the tile beside the tub and twisted the knobs, clear water showered inside the tub.

"Get her inside." She told him, over the loud rushing sound.

Rick nodded, sliding down to his knees and lowering Michonne into the tub. Weight lifted from his arms the second he did, the aching disappearing from him.

Saundra struggled to unwrap Rick's jacket from Michonne's body, and once successful, unstrapped her sword and set it aside. She then pulled at her purple tank top. Saundra tore at the sides of Michonne's top until it ripped fully and Saundra pulled the top free of her body. Beneath that, Michonne wore a simple white cotton bra damp with her own perspiration.

But his attention was instantly pulled to her upper abdomen where there was a jaggedly long and deep cut, shaped with the crooked edges that could only have come from a knife. He watched the thick red liquid oozing freely down the rolls of her stomach that were formed because of her uncomfortable position in the tub.

" _Shit_ …" he whispered under his breath.

Saundra pressed the torn tank to the wound and held it there, the purple material instantly saturating with the blood.

"Carl. Skye." Saundra turned to look at the children who stood at the door of the bathroom slack-jawed and bug-eyed. "You two have to go back into the shop. Find me a sewing kit, some thread and needles."

"W-what even is that?" Carl spluttered, his face contorted fearfully.

Saundra's eyes left Carl and went to his father who looked even more terror-stricken if it was even possible. Rick's curls were incredibly dark, hanging down the sides of his face, weighed down by the sweat that dripped from each lock. His skin was moist, pale blue eyes devoid of anything other than fear.

"Rick…can you do that? Can you get me a sewing kit?" Saundra asked, her brown eyes intent.

With no hesitation, he picked himself up. "I can."

"Good." Saundra nodded up at him, almost proud. "Now go, cause she's lost too much blood. At this point she could slip away at any second."

Rick nodded, brushing past Carl on his way out of the room.

 **X**

" _Got it_."

Came Rick's urgent voice as he burst back into the bathroom. In one hand was a plastic box, an assortment of needles inside and in the other he held a roll of dark red thread. He took note of Skye and Carl sitting against the farther wall holding hands, desperation in their eyes.

He went to the tub and unclipped the box, grabbed a needle in between his thumb and index finger. With that out, he unwrapped the thread roll and brought the thin cord to the needle. His hands shook as he struggled to get it through the needle eye and released a shaky breath when the thread slipped through.

"Here." He said to Saundra as he handed her the needle.

Saundra took the needle in her hands and took a breath. "You're going to have to hold her down."

Rick eyed her for a second before nodding. He knelt closer to the tub and brought his arms over Michonne's. His eyes went to Saundra who carefully peeled away the piece of clothing that was pressed against Michonne's wound, she then let water run over it to clear away the extra blood.

"Alright." She breathed again as she poked the border of the wound. "And…" She prodded harder at Michonne until the needle slid easily into the skin, a small amount of blood pooling around the needle. "There."

Michonne jumped back into consciousness, her eyes were shut as she fought against Rick with a scream.

"She'll attract walkers." Saundra told him in an almost whisper. "Do _something_ , Rick."

"Hey…hey, Michonne." He looked at the woman so clearly in pain and leaned his face against her head, as if it would help. But it sure helped him to be close to her, knowing she was getting aid. "It's alright. It's going to be fine." He spoke calmly, his voice muffled against her hair as he tightly held her arms down.

"Remember when _I_ was doing this?" He said, ending with a quick chuckle as sweat rolled down his eyes like tears. "It was much easier back then. And you _weren't_ screaming. Remember that?"

Her screams were lessened to groans and moans, her eyes opening while she breathed heavily and to his surprise, nodded slowly.

"You do. That was the night…" He jumped into a long story, dropping in quick jokes that he was sure she didn't get, and telling her she'd be okay. Then he saw from out of the corner of his eye that Saundra was finishing up. Rick lifted his head off Michonne's and his arms slid away from hers.

Rick smiled, bringing his eyes away from the sewed wound and to Michonne. "See? That…" he trailed off as he realized that her eyes were shut and her breathing wasn't labored and faint, instead…it had a normal, healthy rhythm. She'd fallen asleep.

He turned to Saundra, who smiled at his enthusiasm. "We did it, Grimes." She held her hand up.

And Rick completed the high-five. "We did."

"Your palms are sweaty." Saundra joked, rubbing her hand on her clothes.

The two children rushed forward, hovering above Rick to take a look.

Rick heard Carl's voice speak.

"Is it over? Is Michonne okay?"

Rick nodded, glad he could finally say the words. "She's fine."

 **X**

The sky behind the bathroom window had grown lighter, but Rick couldn't hear any birds. He was reminded of the early mornings he'd awoken to an average life. He closed his fingers around the edges of the snack and pulled at the wrapper. It loudly crackled until it opened.

Rick pulled a cookie from inside, preparing to feed it to himself.

"You weren't even going to share?"

The voice was tinged with a wheeze, and it was faint, but he could always recognize Michonne's voice.

Rick turned quickly to see that her eyes were finally open. She lay on the ground a few feet away from the tub, his jacket veiling her body. He tried to hide his jollity as he scooted close to the woman and held the cookie down to her.

Michonne weakly chuckled as she accepted it, wincing in pain from holding her arm out. He watched her break the snack with her teeth and chew. Her eyes shut as she enjoyed to taste of it. He was glad that Saundra had broken into the vending machine because he was already feeling the effects of not eating.

"You doing okay?" He asked, watching her pull herself into a sitting position and lean her back against the wall.

"As okay as someone could be in my condition." She tried to bring her knees up but groaned. "I forgot…my leg's disturbed too."

"Yeah…" Rick sighed as he neared her by the wall. "I saw the bruise on your leg. It looked pretty nasty. I soaked a cloth in cold water to ease the pain but…I don't know if it helped."

"Certainly feels better than it did back at the cliff." He saw her eyes flash back to that event that he hadn't been able to witness, and he saw a vacant look in them.

"I can't believe you let a one-armed woman do this to you." He said, to cheer the mood while smirking.

Michonne quietly chuckled in response. "She was a capable woman, but this is nothing compared to what happened to her." Gulping up the last of her cookie, she reached out to touch the side of his face, a peaceful look on her own as her fingered the stubble.

"Did you get him?"

"Who?"

"Mike. Did you get him?"

"I was close to, and I _wanted_ to." Rick sighed. "But I didn't."

Michonne's eyes widened hotly, dropping her fingers from his face. "You're saying that he's—"

"No, I'm not saying he's alive. He's gone…but it wasn't by my hand."

"So…by whose?"

"Walkers." Rick nodded, thinking back. "I let _them_ get him. Mike's gone."

Michonne nodded, as she silently thought about something.

"I thought you were gonna die." He said aloud, catching her attention. "And you…you didn't look alive."

Michonne watched him carefully, almost sympathetic.

"I was going to do everything in my power to save you…but I didn't have much hope that you'd make it."

Michonne released a breath. "That must've been hard."

"You have no idea."

She moved away from the wall and the blanket slipped away from her, revealing the plaid blue shirt he had picked out from the fabric area. She neared him, brushing away the invisible tears on his face and letting her hands rest there. "We did it, Rick. We got rid of Maxine and her people, and _you_ took care of Mike." Michonne sighed.

"So, what's next?" He asked as she continued to close the gap between their faces, his blue eyes flicking between both her brown ones.

She dropped her hands to his shoulders. "I don't care. We're not dead…so anywhere is fine with me. As long as we _all_ are there together."

He dropped his bottom lip to reply, to reassure her that it would happen inevitably, but Michonne had gotten closer and tilted her head to the side to pressed her lips to his own.

Her mouth was firm against his, and surprisingly warm considering that she had been at death's door not a few hours ago. Rick ran his fingers gently down her spine as he slanted his head to deepen the kiss.

Michonne breathed, scrunching her eyes shut and clasped her hands to the back of his hair to tangle her fingers in his curls.

She broke apart with a sigh, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth and opening her eyes. "We shouldn't do this." She looked around, shaking her head. "I mean, we're in a bathroom."

Rick wrinkled his eyebrows together, though a smirk was playing at his lips. "What did you think we were about to do?"

Michonne loosened her hands from his hair with a chuckle as she sat back against the wall. "Very funny." She reached down and tapped the tight place beneath her breast, it was where Maxine had gotten her with the knife and she could feel that it had been sewn up. "Where are the kids? Skye and Carl?"

Rick crawled to his feet, picking up the packet of cookies. "They're with Saundra, getting a change of clothes and something to eat from the vending machine. They really wanted to talk to you but you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"Well, you can tell them I'm awake now," Michonne thought back, the flashing of a woman's face in her head. "Saundra…she saved me, didn't she?"

Rick turned back to her. "Well, she told us where this town was, got us inside, and stitched up your wound. She sure did."

Michonne nodded. "How's she doing?"

"She hasn't broken down yet, but…I'm sure that's what's coming soon." He sighed. "They had plans. She and my brother, they…they had a whole life planned for themselves."

"So did Sidney." She blinked. "He loved Sonya, and the only reason he came with us was to see her, and to be with her."

Rick pursed his lips. "I'm sorry. I know you were close with him."

"It's okay."

She watched as he pulled open the door and slipped out.

* * *

 **I would like to thank my close friend _Mimi Katayama (she refuses to give me her real name, grrr)_. She goes by explicitlyrichonne on Tumblr, and _mimikatayama_ on Twitter. She's been cowriting most of this book with me and I've been stupidly forgetting to acknowledge her here. She wrote Issue 14, 24, and 28 with me. But this chapter she wrote completely on her own. I gave her the script and what would happen, and she wrote it out because she knows that I've been really busy these days. So please thank her if you decide to leave a review.**


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